THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT 


Anthony  Hopk  (Hawkins) 


^;,  Sport 

I 

Royal 


ANTHONY 
[i '  HOPE 


H.  M.  CALDWELL  CO.,  PUBLISHERS 
NEW  YORK  AND  BOSTON      jt     S 


CONTENTS 


Sport  Royal— 

i.  the  sequel  to  the  ball 
ii.  at  the  hotel  magnifique 
iii.  the  mission  of  the  ruby 
a   tragedy   in   outline 
a  mal-a-propos  parent 
how  they  stopped  the  "  run  " 
a  little  joke 

a  guardian   of  morality   . 
not    a    bad    deal         ,  , 

middleton's  model       .  . 

my    astral    body         .  • 

the  nebraska  loadstone    . 
a  successful  rehearsal     • 


Page 

7 

26 

42 

71 

74 
83 
90 

99 
109 

119 

130 

143 
151 


93976' 


/«■' 


SPORT  ROYAL. 

AN  EXTRACT   FROM   THE  JOURNALS  OF 
JULIUS  JASON,  ESQUIRE. 

CHAPTFR  I. 

THE  SEQUEL  TO   THE  BALL. 

Heidelberg  seems  rather  a  tourist-ridden, 
hackneyed  sort  of  place  to  be  the  mother 
of  adventures.  Nevertheless,  it  is  there  that 
my  story  begins.  I  had  been  traveling  on 
the  Continent,  and  came  to  Heidelberg  to 
pay  my  duty  to  the  Castle,  and  recruit  in 
quiet  after  a  spell  of  rather  laborious  idleness 
at  Homburg  and  Baden.  At  first  sight,  I 
made  up  my  mind  that  the  place  would  bore 
me,  and  I  came  down  to  dinner  at  the  hotel, 
looking  forward  only  to  a  bad  dinner  and  an 
early  bed.  The  room  was  so  full  that  I  could 
not  get  a  table  to  myself,  and,  seeing  one 
occupied  only  by  a  couple  of  gentlemanly- 
looking  men,  I  made  for  it, and  took  the  third 

[7\ 


8 

seat,  facing  one  of  the  strangers,  a  short,  fair 
young  man,  with  a  little  flaxen  moustache 
and  a  soldier-like  air,  and  having  the  other, 
who  was  older,  dark,  and  clean-shaved,  on 
my  left.     The  fourth  seat  was  empty. 

The  two  gentlemen  returned  my  bow  with 
well-bred  negligence,  and  I  started  on  ni}- 
soup.  As  I  finished  it,  I  looked  up  and 
saw  my  companions  interchanging  glances. 
Catching  my  eye,  they  both  looked  away  in 
an  absent  fashion,  each  the  while  takinsr  out 
of  his  pocket  a  red  silk  handkerchief  and  lay- 
ing it  on  the  table  by  him.  I  turned  away 
for  a  moment,  then  suddenly  looked  again 
and  found  their  eyes  on  me,  and  I  fancied 
that  the  next  moment  the  eyes  wandered 
from  me  to  the  handkerchiefs.  I  happened 
to  be  carrying  a  red  handkerchief  m3^self, 
and,  thinking  either  that  something  was  in 
the  wind  or  perhaps  that  my  friends  were 
having  a  joke  at  my  expense  (though,  as  I 
said,  they  looked  well-bred  men),  I  took  it 
out  of  my  pocket  and,  laying  it  on  the  table, 
gazed  calmly  in  fi'ont  of  me,  my  eyes  natur- 
ally falling  on  the  fair  young  man. 

He  nodded  significantly  to  the  older  man, 
and  held  out  his  hand  to  me.  I  shook  hands 
with  him,  and  went  through  the  same  cere- 
mony with  the  other. 


"  Ah  !"  said  the  young  man,  speaking  in 
French,  "  you  got  her  letter?" 

I  nodded. 

*'  And  you  are  wiUing?" 

The  first  maxim  for  a  would-be  adventurer 
is  always  to  say  "  yes  "  to  questions.  A  "  no  " 
is  fatal  to  further  progress. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered. 

"It  will  be  made  worth  your  while,  of 
course,"  he  went  on. 

I  thought  I  ought  to  resent  this  sugges- 
tion. 

"  Sir,"  I  said,  "  3'ou  cannot  possibly  mean 
to  suggest — " 

The  young  man  laughed  pleasantly. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  "  ladies  have 
their  own  ways  of  paying  debts.  If  you  don't 
like  it — !"  and  he  shrugged  his.shoulders. 

*'  Oh,"  said  I,  smiling,  "  I  misunderstood 
you." 

"  It  is,  of  course,"  said  the  old  man,  speak- 
ing for  the  first  time,  and  in  a  loud  whisper, 
"of  vital  importance  that  His  Royal  High- 
ness's  name  should  not  appear." 

This  really  began  to  be  mysterious  and 
interesting.     I  nodded. 

"  That  goes  without  saying,"  said  the 
young  man.     "  And  you'll  be  ready  ?" 

"  Ready  !"  I  said.     "  But  when?"     . 


lO 


"  Didn't    I    tell  you  ?     Oh,  six    o'clock    to 


morrow  morning-." 


"  That's  early  hours." 

"  Well,  you  must,  you  know,"  he  answered. 

"  And,"  added  the  old  man,  "  the  Countess 
hopes  you'll  come  to  breakfast  afterwards  at 
ten." 

"  I'll  be  there,  never  fear,"  said  I,  "  and  it's 
very  kind." 

"  Bravo  !"  said  the  young  man,  clapping  me 
on  the  shoulder  (for  we  had  risen  from  the 
table).     "  You  take  it  the  right  way." 

As  may  be  supposed,  I  was  rather  puzzled 
by  this  time,  and  decidedly  vexed,  to  find  I 
should  have  to  be  up  so  early.  Still,  the 
mention  of  His  Roj^al  Highness  and  the 
Countess  decided  me  to  go  on  for  the  pres- 
ent ;  probably  the  real  man — for  unless  it 
were  all  a  mad  joke,  there  must  be  a  real 
man — would  appear  in  the  course  of  the 
evening.  I  only  hoped  my  new  friends 
would,  in  their  turn,  take  it  in  the  right  way 
when  that  happened. 

"  Have  you  a  servajit  with  you  ?"  asked 
the  3'oung  man,  as  we  said  good-night. 

"  No,"  said  I.    "  I  am  quite  alone." 

"You  are  a  paragon  of  prudence,"  he 
answered,  smiling.  "  Well,  I'll  call  you,  and 
we'll  slip  out  quietly." 


II 

Just  as  I  was  getting  into  bed,  the  waiter 
knocked  at  my  door  and  gave  me  a  note.  It 
bore  no  address. 

"  Is  it  for  me  ?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  answered.  "You  are  the 
gentleman  who  dined  with  Herr  Vooght  and 
M.  Dumergue?" 

I  supposed  I  was,  and  opened  the  note. 

"  You  are  generous  and  forgiving,  indeed," 
it  said  (and  said  it  in  English).  **  What  re- 
ward will  you  claim  ?  But  do  be  careful. 
He  is  dangerous. — M." 

'*  The  devil !"  I  exclaimed. 

The  next  morning  I  was  aroused  at  five 
o'clock  by  my  two  friends. 

"  Good  morning,  Herr  Vooght,"  said  I, 
looking  just  between  them. 

*'  Good  morning,"  answered  the  old  man. 

"  Now,  my  dear  fellow,  come  along. 
There's  a  cup  of  coffee  downstairs,"  said  the 
other,  whom  I  took  to  be  Dumergue. 

After  coffee  we  got  into  a  close  carriage 
with  a  pair  of  horses,  and  drove  two  or  three 
miles  into  the  country ;  my  companions  said 
little.  Dumergue  twice  asked  in  a  joking 
way  how  I  felt,  and  Vooght  puzzled  me  very 
much  by  remarking  : 

"They  are  bringing  all  the  necessaries; 
but  I  don't  know  what  they  will  choose."         , 


When  this  was  said,  Dumergue  was  hum- 
ming a  tune.  He  went  on  for  five  minutes, 
and  then  said,  with  a  touch  of  scorn  : 

"  My  good  Vooght,  they  know  our  friend's 
reputation.     They  will  choose  pistols." 

I  could  not  repress  a  start.  No  doubt  it 
was  stupid  of  me  not  to  have  caught  the 
meaning  of  this  early  expedition  before,  but 
it  really  never  struck  me  that  our  business 
might  be  a  duel.  However,  so  it  seemed,  and 
apparently  I  was  one  of  the  principals. 
Dumergue  noticed  my  little  start. 
,  "  What's  the. matter?"  he  asked. 
i      **  Do  they  know  my  name  ?"  said  I. 

*'  My  dear  friend,  could  you  expect  the 
Baron  to  fight  with  an  unknown  man?  The 
challenge  had  to  be  in  your  name." 

I  had  clearly  been  the  challenger.  I  was 
consumed  with  curiosity  to  know  what  the 
grievance  was,  and  how  the  Countess  was 
concerned  in  the  matter. 

"  The  Countess  assured  us,"  said  Vooght, 
**  that  she  had  your  authority." 

*' As  fully  as  if  I  had  been  there,"  I 
answered,  and  Dumergue  resumed  his  tune. 

I  was  sincerely  glad  that  the  name  of  my 
original  had  been  given,  for  his  reputation 
for  swordsmanship  had  evidently  saved  me 
from   a   hole    in  my  skin.     I  was  a  fair  hand 


with  a  pistol  ;  but,  like  most  of  my  country- 
men, a  mere  bungler  with  a  rapier.  It  was 
very  annoying,  though,  that  my  friends'  ex- 
aggerated prudence  prevented  them  mention- 
ing my  name  ;  it  would  have  been  more  con- 
venient to  know  who  I  was. 

I  had  not  long  for  reflection,  for  we  soon 
drew  up  by  a  roadside  inn,  and,  getting  out 
of  the  carriage,  walked  through  the  house, 
where  we  were  apparently  expected,  into  a 
field  behind.  There  were  three  men  walk- 
ing up  and  down,  and  two  of  them  at  once 
advanced  to  meet  Vooght  and  Dumergue. 
I  remained  where  I  was,  merely  raising  my 
hat,  and  the  third  man,  a  big,  burly  fellow 
with  a  heavy  black  moustache,  followed  my 
example. 

This  one,  no  doubt,  was  the  Baron,  To  be 
frank,  he  looked  a  brute,  and  I  had  very  little 
hesitation  in  assuming  that  the  merits  of  the 
quarrel  must  be  on  my  side.  I  was  com- 
forted by  this  conclusion,  as  I  had  no  desire 
to  shoot  an  unoffending  person.  Prelimin- 
aries were  soon  concluded.  I  overheard 
one  of  the  Baron's  representatives  mention 
the  word  apology,  and  add  that  they  would 
meet  us  half  way,  but  Dumergue  shook  his 
head   decisively.      This   defiant  attitude    be- 


H 

came  Diimergue  very  well ;   but    I,    for  my 
part,  should  have  been  open  to  reason. 

The  baron  and  I  were  placed  opposite  one 
another  at  twelve  paces.  There  were  to  be 
two  shots — unless,  of  course,  one  of  us  were 
disabled  at  the  first  fire ;  after  that,  the 
seconds  were  to  consider  whether  the  matter 
need  go  further. 

The  word  was  just  about  to  be  given, 
when  to  my  surprise  the  baron  cried  : 

"  Stop  !" 
I      Every  one  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"  Before  we  fire,"  he  went  on,  "  I  wish  to 
ask  this  gentleman  one  question.  No,  I  will 
not  be  stopped." 

His  seconds,  who  had  advanced,  fell  back 
before  his  resolute  gesture,  and  he  continued, 
addressing  me : 

"  Sir,  will  you  do  the  honor  to  answer  one 
question?  Are  you  the  person  who  accom- 
panied—  ?" 

Vooght  struck  in  quickly  : 

"  No  names,  please  !" 

The  baron  bowed,  and  began  again. 

"  On  your  honor,  sir,  are  you  the  gentle- 
man who  accompanied  the  lady  in  question 
to  the  masked  ball  on  the  night  in  question  ?" 

These  gentlemen  were  all  very  diplomatic. 
I  thought  I  would  be  diplomatic  too. 


15 

"  Surely  this  is  grossly  irregular  ?"  I  said, 
appealing  to  my  supporters. 

"  I  ask  for  an  answer,"  said  the  baron. 

"  It's  nothing  but  a  new  insult,"  said  I. 

*'  I  have  my  reasons,  and  those  gentlemen 
know  them." 

This  was  intolerable. 

"  You  mean  to  fight  or  you  don't,  M.  le 
Baron,"  said  I.     "  Which  is  it !" 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Your  master  is  well  served,"  he  said  with 
a  sneer. 

His  seconds  looked  bewildered.  Vooght 
bit  his  nails,  and  Dumergue  swore  furiously 
and,  coming  near  me,  whispered  in  my  ear: 

"  Shoot  straight !  Stop  his  cursed  mouth 
for  him  !" 

I  had  not  the  least  intention  of  killing  the 
baron,  if  I  could  avoid  it  without  being 
killed  myself  ;  but  I  thought  a  slight  lesson 
would  improve  his  manners,  and,  when  the 
word  came,  I  fired  with  a  careful  aim.  He 
evidently  meant  mischief,  for  I  heard  his  ball 
whizz  past  my  ear  ;  I  missed  him  clean,  being 
much  out  of  practise,  and,  1  dare  say,  rather 
nervous.  I  pulled  myself  together  for  the 
second  shot,  for  I  saw  that  my  opponent  was 
not  to  be  trifled  with,  and  I  should  not  have 
been  the    least  surprised  to  find   myself   in 


i6 


paradise  the  next  moment.  On  the  word  I 
fired  ;  the  baron  fell  back  with  a  cry,  and 
simultaneously  I  felt  a  tingle  in  my  left  hand 
and  the  unmistakable  warm  ooze  of  blood. 
The  witnesses  ran  to  my  opponent,  and  raised 
his  head.     Dumergue  turned  round  to  me. 

"  Are  you  hurt  ?" 

"  A  scratch,"  I  answered,  for  I  found  the 
ball  had  run  up  my  arm,  merely  grazing  me 
in  its  passage. 

A  hurried  consultation  followed  ;  then 
Vooght  and  Dumergue  raised  their  hats  and 
joined  me. 

"  We  had  best  be  off,"  said  Vooght. 

"Is  he  dead?"  I  asked. 

"  No,"  said  Dumergue,  with  a  little  disap- 
pointment, I  thought.  "  He'll  get  over  it ; 
but  he's  safe  for  a  week  or  two.  Not  a  bad 
shot.  Colonel  !" 

So  I  was  a  colonel  ! 

"  Now,"  said  Vooght,  "  we'll  drive  back, 
and  send  you  to  the  Countess." 

I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  get  away  from 
the  place  as  soon  as  I  could,  but  my  curiosity 
to  see  the  causa  belli  was  too  strong,  and  I 
said  I  should  be  delighted  to  keep  my 
engagement. 

Dumergue  smiled  significantly,  and  Vooght 
hurried  us  into  the  carriage.    We  drove  back 


17 

to  the  town,  and  then  two  or  three  miles  into 
the  country  again,  till  we  came  to  a  pretty 
villa,  embowered  in  trees,  and  standing  some 
two  hundred  yards  back  from  the  road. 
There  was  no  drive  up  to  the  house,  a  turf 
walk  forming  the  passage  from  the  highway. 
Vooght  motioned  me  to  get  down. 

"  Don't  you  accompany  me  ?"  I  asked. 

Dumergue  smiled  again. 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  said.  "  Come  for  us  at  the 
hotel,  and  we'll  all  be  off  by  the  two  o'clock 
train." 

"  Unless  you  are  detained,"  added  Vooght. 

"  I  shouldn't  be  detained,  if  I  were  you," 
said  Dumergue,  drily.  "  Who  knows?  The 
Baron  may  die." 

I  was  quite  determined  not  to  be  detained, 
and  said  so.  I  was  also  quite  determined  not 
to  keep  the  rendezvous  at  the  hotel,  but  to 
slip  away  quietly  by  myself.  The  Colonel 
might  arrive  at  any  moment. 

I  watched  my  friends  drive  off,  and  then 
v/alked  briskly  up  to  the  house.  A  man  in 
livery  met  me  before  I  had  time  to  ring. 

"  Are  you  the  gentleman?"  he  asked. 

I  nodded. 

"  Will  you  be  so  kind,  sir,  as  to  walk 
straight  in  ?  That  door.  sir.  The  Countess 
expects  you." 


i8 

I  had  my  doubts  about  that,  but  I  walked 
in,  shutting- the  door  swiftly  behind  me,  lest 
the  servant  should  hear  anything-.  I  thought 
an  explosion  not  improbable. 

The  room  was  dim,  close  curtains  shutting 
out  the  growing  strength  of  the  sunshine. 
The  air  was  thick  with  the  scent  of  flowers 
that  overpowered  without  quite  smothering 
the  appetizing  smell  rising  from  a  table  pro- 
fusely spread  for  breakfast.  I  had  entered 
softly,  and  had  time  to  take  note  of  the  sur- 
roundings before  I  became  aware  of  a  tall, 
slight  figure  in  white,  first  moving  impetu- 
ously toward  me,  then  stopping  abruptly  in 
surprise.  Presumably  this  was  the  Countess. 
Charming  as  she  was,  with  her  open  blue  eyes, 
fluffy  golden  hair,  and  fresh  tints,  I  wondered 
from  what  noble  house  she  sprang.  How- 
ever, the  fountains  of  honor  are  many,  and 
their  streams  meander  sometimes  throueh 
very  winding  channels. 

The  Countess  stood  and  looked  at  me.     I 
bowed  and  smiled. 

"  You    are   naturally  surprised,"   I  said,  in 
my  smoothest  tones. 

"  I  was  expecting — another  gentleman." 
"  Yes,  I  know.     I  come  in  his  place." 
"  In  his  place  ?"   she  repeated,  in   incredu- 
lous tones. 


19 

**  Yes  ;    in  the  Colonel's  place." 

"  Hush  !"  she  exclaimed.  "  We  needn't 
mention  names." 

It  suited  me  perfectly  not  to  mention 
names. 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  I  murmured. 

*'  But  how  is  it  possible  ?"  she  asked.  "  Do 
you  know  what  he  was  to  come  for?" 

"Oh,  yes." 

"And  he  hasn't  come?" 

"  No." 

She  frowned. 

"  Wouldn't  he  come?" 

"  He  couldn't.     So  I  came." 

"  But  how  did  you  know  anything  about 
it  ?  Did  he  tell  you  about  the  Pr— about  the 
affair  ?" 

•*  No.     I  only  heard — " 
-    "From  him?" 

"  Yes — that  you  wanted  a  champion." 

"  Oh,  that's  absurd  !  Why,  you  never  heard 
of  me  !" 

"Ah,  indeed  I  have!" 

"And — did  you  recognize  me  under  my 
new  name?  " 

"Your— ?" 

"  My— my  title.     You  know." 

"The — he  told  me  that.  Must  I  confess? 
I  jumped  at  the  chance  of  serving  you." 


20 


"You  had  never  seen  me  !" 

"  Perhaps  I  had  seen  your  photograph." 

She  smiled  at  this,  but  still  looked  per- 
turbed. 

*'  Pray  don't  be  Distressed, "  said  I.  "  I  am 
very  discreet." 

"  Oh,  1  hope  so.  The  Prince  (she  spoke  in 
a  whisper)  was  so  urgent  about  discretion. 
You  haven't  seen  him  ?" 

*•  The  Prince  ?     No." 

**  And — when  is  it  to  be  ?" 

"  I  don't  quite  understand." 

This  was  my  first  truthful  remark. 

"Why,  the  duel!" 

"  Oh,  it's  all  over." 

"Over!" 

"  Yes — two  hours  ago." 

"  And  the  Baron?  No,  forgive  me.  You! 
Are  you  hurt?" 

"  Not  a  bit.     He's  hurt." 

"  Is  he  dead  ?"  she  asked  breathlessly. 

"I'm  very  sorry,  Countess.  Not  quite. 
Was  that  necessary  ? 

"Oh,  no.  Though  he  deserved  it.  He 
insulted  me  shamefully." 

"  Then  he  did  deserve  it." 

She  went  off  at  a  tangent. 

"  What  became  of  my  letter  ?** 


21 


"They  gave  it  to  me.  You  only  said  for 
the  gentleman  who  dined  with  your  friends." 

"  Then  you  read  it  ?"  she  asked,  blushing. 

"  Yes.  How  I  wish  "^  were  the  rightful 
owner  of  it!" 

"  Why  didn't  he  come?"  she  asked  again. 

'*  He's  going  to  write  and  explain." 

"  And  you  really  came  because —  ?" 

"  May  I  tell  you  already  ?  Or  have  you 
guessed  already  ?" 

She  blushed  again. 

"  I  don't  see  what  else  the  Prince  could  do, 
you  know,"  she  said.  "  He  ought,  of  course, 
never  to  have  gone  to  the  ball  at  all." 

**  Perhaps  not,"  I  answered  ;  "  but  I  sup- 
pose he  was  tempted." 

"  Do  you  think  very  badly  of  me  ?" 

"  I  should  think  you  perfection  if — " 

".Well?" 

"  You  would  give  me  some  breakfast." 

"Oh,  what  a  shame!  You're  starving! 
And  after  all  you  have  done  !  Come,  I'll 
wait  on  you." 

My  meal  was  very  pleasant.  The  lady  was 
charming  ;  she  satisfied  every  feeling  I  had, 
except  curiosity.  She  was  clearly  English  ; 
equally  clearly  she  was  involved  with  some 
great  people  on  the  Continent.  I  gathered 
that   the   Baron  had  insulted  her,  when  she 


22 


was  with  the  Prince,  and  the  latter  could  not, 
whether  for  state  or  domestic  reasons,  es- 
pouse the  quarrel.  So  far  I  got,  but  no 
farther. 

"  What  a  debt  I  owe  you!"  she  said,  as 
she  led  the  way  after  breakfast  to  the  top  of 
a  little  tower.  An  awning  was  spread  over- 
head, and  armchairs  on  the  floor.  A  cool 
breeze  blew  and  stirred  her  hair. 

*'  I  am  more  than  paid  !" 

"  Fancy,  if  you  had  been  hurt !" 

**  Better  I  than  the  Colonel !"  I  suggested. 
She  darted  a  smile  at  me. 

"  Oh,  well,"  she  said,  "  you  came,  and  he 
didn't.     I  like  you  best." 

It  was  all  very  charming,  but  time  was 
flying,  and  I  began  to  plan  a  graceful  exit. 

"You  make  it  hard  to  go,"  I  said. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  we  must  go  as  soon  as 
possible.     Herr  Vooght  said  at  two  o'clock." 

I  was  startled.  Delightful  as  she  was,  I 
hardly  reckoned  on  her  being  one  of  the 
party. 

"  The  Prince  will  be  so  pleased  to  see 
you,"  she  went  on. 

"  Will  he?" 

"  Why,  you  will  have  my  recommenda- 
tion !" 

**  I'm  sure  it  must  be  all-powerful  !'* 


23 

"  But  we  have  two  hours  before  we  need 
start.     You  must  want  to  rest." 

**  What  a  charming  tower  this  is  !" 

"  Yes,  such  a  view.  Look,  we  can  see  for 
miles.  Only  I  hate  that  stretch  of  dusty 
road." 

I  looked  carelessly  toward  the  road,  along 
which  we  had  come. 

"Look  what  a  dust!"  she  said.  ''It's  a 
carriage!     Oh,  they'll  upset!" 

I  jumped  up.  About  half  a  mile  off,  I  saw 
a  carriage  and  pair  driven  furiously  toward 
the  villa.     My  heart  beat. 

"  Who  can  it  be,"  she  said. 

•' Don't  be  frightened,"  said  L  "Possibly 
the  authorites  have  found  out  about  the 
duel." 

"  Oh  !" 

"  Let  me  go  and  see." 

"  Take  care  !" 

"And  in  case  I  have  to  slip  away — " 

"  I  shall  go  alone.     You  will  join  us?" 

"  Yes.     But  now  ;  in  case —  " 

"  Well  ?" 

"  As  a  reward,  may  I  kiss  your  hand  ?" 

She  gave  it  me. 

"  I  am  glad  you  came,"  she  said.  "  Stay, 
perhaps  it's  only  our  friends  coming  for  us." 

"  I'll  go  and  see." 


24 

I  was  reluctant  to  cut  short  our  good-by 
— for  I  feared  it  must  be  final — but  no  time 
was  to  be  lost.  With  another  kiss — and  upon 
my  honor,  I  can't  swear  whether  it  was  her 
hand  or  her  cheek  this  time — 1  rushed  down- 
stairs, seized  my  hat  and  cane,  and  dived  into 
the  shrubberies  that  bordered  on  the  turf- 
walk.  Quickly  I  made  my  way  to  within 
twenty  yards  of  the  road  and  stopped,  mo- 
tionless and  completely  hidden  by  the  trees. 
At  that  moment,  the  carriage,  with  its  smok- 
ing horses,  drew  up  at  the  gate. 

Dumergue  got  out;  Vooght  ^ame  next; 
then  a  tall,  powerful  man,  of  military  bearing. 
No  doubt  this  was  the  Colonel.  They  seemed 
in  a  hurry  ;  motioning  the  driver  to  wait, 
they  walked  or  almost  ran  past  me  up  the 
path.  The  moment  they  were  by  me  and 
round  a  little  curve,  I  hastened  to  the  gate, 
and  burst  upon  the  driver. 

**  A  hundred  marks  to  the  station !" 

*'  But,  sir,  I  am  engaged." 

"  Damn  you  !     Two  hundred  !"  I  cried. 

"  Get  in,"  said  he,  like  a  sensible  man, 
bundling  back  the  nosebags  he  was  just  put- 
ting on  his  horses.  I  leapt  in,  he  jumped  on 
the  box,  and  off  we  flew  quicker  even  than 
they  had  come.  As  we  went,  I  glanced  up  at 
the  tower.     They  were  there  !     I  saw  Vooght 


25 

and  Dumergue  lean  over  for  a  moment,  and 
then  turn  as  if  to  come  down.  The  tall 
stranger  stood  opposite  the  lady,  and  seemed 
to  be  talking  to  her. 

**  Faster  !"  I  cried,  and  faster  and  faster 
we  went,  till  we  reached  the  station.  Fling- 
ing the  driver  his  money,  I  took  a  ticket  for 
the  first  train,  and  got  in,  hot  and  breath- 
less. As  we  steamed  out  of  the  town,  I  saw, 
from  my  carriage-window,  a  neat  barouche 
with  a  woman  and  three  men  in  it,  driving 
quickly  along  the  road,  which  ran  by  the 
railway.  It  was  my  party  !  Youth  is  vain, 
and  beauty  is  powerful.  I  bared  my  head, 
leant  out  of  the  window,  and  kissed  my  hand 
to  the  Countess.  We  were  not  more  than 
thirty  yards  apart,  and,  to  my  joy,  I  saw 
her  return  my  salutation,  with  a  toss  of  her 
head  and  a  defiant  glance  at  her  companions. 
The  Colonel  sat  glum  and  still ;  Vooght  was 
biting  his  nails  harder  than  ever  ;  Dumergue 
shook  his  fist  at  me,  but  I  thought,  more  in 
jest  than  in  anger.  I  kissed  my  hand  again 
as  the  train  and  the  carriage  whisked  by  one 
another,  and  I  was  borne  on  my  way  out  of 
their  reach. 


CHAPTER  II. 

AT    THE   HOTEL  MAGNIFIQUE. 

To  a  reflective  mind  nothingf  is  more  curi- 
ous than  the  way  one  thing  leads  to  another. 
A  little  experience  of  this  tendency  soon 
cured  me  of  refusing  to  go  anywhere  I  was 
asked,  merely  because  the  prospects  of 
amusement  were  not  very  obvious.  I  always 
went,  taking  credit  of  course  for  much  amia- 
bility, and  I  often  received  my  reward  in  an 
unexpected  development  of  something  new 
or  an  interesting  revival  of  a  former  episode. 
It  happened  a  few  months  after  my  adven- 
ture at  Heiddberg,  that  my  brother's  wife, 
Jane  Jason,  asked  me,  as  a  favor  to  her- 
self, to  take  a  stall  at  the  theatre  where  a 
certain  actress  was,  after  a  long  and  success- 
ful career  in  the  provinces,  introducing  her- 
self to  a  London  audience.  Jane  is  possessed 
by  the  idea  that  she  has  a  keen  nose  for 
dramatic  talent,  and  she  assured  me  that  her 


27 

prot^g^e  was  a  wonder.  I  dai-e  say  the  woman 
had  some  talent,  but  she  was  an  ugly,  gaunt 
creature  of  f()rt3%  and  did  not  sliine  in  Juliet. 
At  the  end  of  the  second  act,  I  was  bored  to 
death,  and  was  pondering  whether  I  knew 
enough  of  the  play  to  slip  out  without  Jane 
being  likely  to  discover  my  desertion  by 
cross-examination,  when  my  eye  happened  to 
fall  on  the  stage-box  in  the  first  tier.  In  the 
centre  seat  sat  a  fair,  rather  stout  man,  with 
the  ver}"  weariest  expression  that  I  ever  saw 
on  human  face.  He  was  such  an  unsurpassed 
impersonation  of  boredom  that  I  could  not 
help  staring  at  him  ;  I  could  do  so  without 
rudeness,  as  his  e3-es  were  fixed  on  the  chan- 
delier in  the  roof  of  the  house.  I  looked  my 
fill,  and  was  about  to  turn  away,  and  go  out 
for  a  cigarette,  when  somebody  spoke  to  me 
in  a  low  voice,  the  tones  of  which  seemed 
familiar. 

"  Ah,  impostor,  here  you  are  !" 

It  was  Dumergue,  smiling  quietly  at  me. 
I  greeted  him  with  surprise  and  pleasure. 

"  How  is  the  Baron  ?"  I  asked. 

"  He  cheated  the — grave,"  answered  Du- 
mergue. 

"And  the  Countess?" 

**  Hush  !     I  have  a  message  for  you." 


^-*v  • 


28 


"  From  her?"  1  inquired,  not,  I  fear,  with- 
out eagerness. 

"No,"  he  replied,  "  from  the  Prince.  He 
desires  that  you  should  be  presented  to  him." 

"  Who  is  he  ?" 

"  I  forg-ot.  Prince  Ferdinand  of  Glotten- 
berg." 

"  Indeed.     He's  in  London,  then  ?" 

"  Yes,  in  that  box,"  and  he  pointed  to  the 
bored  man,  and  added  : 

"  Come   along  ;    he  hates  being  kept  wait- 


ing. 


"  He  looks  as  if  he  hated  most  things,"  I 
remarked. 

"  Well,  most  things  are  detestable,"  said 
Dumergue,  leading  the  way. 

The  Prince  rose  and  greeted  me  with 
fatigued  graciousness. 

"I  am  very  much  indebted  to  you,  Mr. 
Jason,"  he  said,  "for — " 

I  began  to  stammer  an  apology  for  my 
intrusion  into  his  affairs. 

"  For,"  he  resumed,  without  noticing  what 
I  said,  "  a  moment's  bewilderment.  I  quite 
enjoyed  it." 

I  bowed,  and  he  continued. 

"The  only  things  I  cling  to  in  life,  Mr. 
Jason,  are  a  quiet  time  at  home  and  my 
income.      You  have  been  very  discreet.     If 


29 

you  hadn't,  I  might  have  lost  those  two 
things.  I  am  very  much  obliged.  Will  you 
give  me  the  pleasure  of  your  company  at 
supper?  Dumergue,  the  Princess  will  be 
delighted  to  see  Mr.  Jason  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  her  Royal  Highness  will  be 
delighted,"  answered  Dumergue. 

"  Where  was  the  Princess  going?"  asked 
the  Prince. 

"  To  a  meeting  of  the  Women's  Interna- 
tional Society  for  the  Promotion  of  Morality, 
at  the  Mansion  House,  sir." 

'' Mon  Dutil"  said  the  Prince. 

"  His  Majesty  is  much  interested  in  the 
society,  sir." 

"  I  am  sure  my  brother  would  be.  Come 
along,  Mr.  Jason." 

The  Prince  and  Princess  were  staying  at 
the  Hotel  Magnifique  in  Northumberland 
Avenue.  We  drove  thither,  and  were  told 
that  the  Princess  had  returned.  Upon 
further  inquiry,  made  by  Dumergue,  it 
appeared  that  it  would  be  agreeable  to  her 
to  sup  with  the  Prince  and  to  receive  Mr. 
Jason.  So  we  went  into  the  dining-room 
and  found  her  seated  by  the  fire.  After 
greeting  me,  she  said  to  the  Prince. 

"  1  have  just  written  a  long  account  of  our 


30 

Meeting  to  the  King.  He  will  be  so  inter- 
ested." 

She  was  a  small  woman,  with  a  gentle 
manner  and  a  low,  sweet  voice.  She  looked 
like  an  amiable  and  intelligent  girl  of  eio-ht- 
een,  and  had  a  pretty,  timid  air,  which  made 
me  wish  to  assure  her  of  my  respectful  pro- 
tection, 

"  My  brother,"  said  the  Prince,  "  is  a  man 
of  Catholic  tastes." 

"  It  is  necessary  in  a  King,  sir,"  suggested 
Dumergue. 

The  Prince  did  not  answer  him,  but  offered 
his  arm  to  his  wife,  to  escort  her  to  the  table. 
She  motioned  me  to  sit  on  her  right  hand, 
and  began  to  prattle  gently  to  me  about  the 
Court  of  Glottenberg.  The  Prince  put  in  a 
word  here  and  there,  and  Dumergue  laughed 
appreciatively  whenever  the  Princess's  de- 
scriptions were  neat  and  appropriate — at 
least,  so  I  interpreted  his  delicate  flattery. 

I  enjoyed  myself  very  much.  The  Princess 
was  evidently,  to  judge  from  her  conversa- 
tion, a  little  Puritan,  and  I  always  love  a 
pretty  Puritan.  That  rogue  Dumergue 
agreed  with  all  her  views,  and  the  Prince 
allowed  his  silence  to  pass  for  assent. 

"  We  do  try  at  Court,"  she  ended  by  say- 
ing, "  to  set  an  example  to  society ;  and,  as 


31 

the  King-  is  unmarried,  of  course  I  have  to  do 
a  great  deal." 

At  this  moment,  a  servant  entered,  bearing 
a  card  on  a  salver.  He  approached  the 
Princess. 

"  A  gentleman  desires  the  honor  of  an 
audience  with  her  Royal  Highness,"  he 
announced. 

"At  this  time  of  night!"  exclaimed  the 
Princess. 

"  He  saj's  his  business  will  not  bear  delay, 
and  prays  for  an  interview." 

"All  business  will  bear  delay,"  said  the 
Prince,  "  and  generally  be  the  better  for  it. 
Who  is  he?" 

"  The  Baron  de  Barbot." 

"Oh,  I  must  see  him,"  cried  the  Princess. 
"  Why,  he  is  a  dear  friend  of  ours." 

I  had  detected  a  rapid  glance  pass  between 
Dumergue  and  the  Prince.  The  latter  then 
answered  : 

"Yes,  we  must  see  Barbot.  If  you  will  go 
to  the  drawing-room,  FU  take  your  message 
myself." 

"  That  is  kind  of  you,"  said  the  Princess, 
retiring. 

"  Give  me  the  card,"  said  the  Prince,  "  and 
ask  the  Baron  to  be  kind  enough  to  wait  a 
lew  minutes." 


32 

The  servant  went  out,  and  the  Prince 
turned  to  me. 

"  Why  didn't  you  kill  him,  Mr.  Jason  ?"  he 
asked. 

"  Is  it ?"  I  began. 

"  Yes,  it's  your  Baron,"  said  Dumergue. 

"It's  really  a  little  awkward,"  said  the 
Prince,  as  though  gently  remonstrating  with 
fate.     "  We  had  arranged  it  all  so  pleasantly." 

"  It  would  upset  the  Princess,"  said 
Dumergue. 

"  What  upsets  the  Princess  upsets  me," 
said  the  Prince.  "  I  am  a  devoted  husband, 
Mr.  Jason." 

"  If  there  is  anything  I  can  do,  sir,"  said  I, 
"rely  on  me." 

"You  overwhelm  me,"  said  the  Prince. 
*'  Is  there  anything,  Dumergue  ?" 

"  Why,  3^es,  sir.  Mr,  Jason  was  at  the  ball. 
Why  should  he  have  fought,  if  he  wasn't?" 

"You  are  right,  Dumergue.  Mr.  Jason, 
you  were  at  the  ball." 

"  But,  sir,  I — I  don't  know  anything  about 
the  ball." 

"  It  was  just  like  other  balls — other  unasked 
balls,"  said  Dumergue. 

"  Perhaps  a  little  more  so,"  added  the 
Prince,  lighting  a  cigarette. 

"  There    was   a  scandal  at    the    last   one," 


33 

Dumergue  continued,"  and  the  King  strictly 
forbade  anyone  connected  with  the  Court  to 
go,  under  pain  of  his  severe  displeasure. 
There  had  been  a  rumor  that  a  Royal  Prince 
was  at  the  one  before,  and  consequently — " 

*'  That  Royal  Prince  was  specially  com- 
manded not  to  go  to  this  one,"  said  the 
Prince. 

"  It  was  bad  enough,"  resumed  Dumergue, 
"  that  it  should  be  discovered  that  the 
Princess's  favorite  lady-in-wating,  the  Count- 
ess von  Hohstein — " 

'*  Who  bore  such  a  high  character,"  inter- 
jected the  Prince. 

"  Did  go,  and,  moreover,  went  under  the 
escort  of  an  unknown  gentleman — a  gentle- 
man whose  name  she  refused  to  give." 

"  Was  that  discovered  ?"  said  I. 

"  It  was.  This  Baron  detected  her,  and, 
with  a  view,  as  we  have  reason  to  believe,  to 
compelling  her  companion  to  declare  himself, 
publicly  insulted  her." 

"  W^hereupon,"  said  the  Prince,  "you  very 
properly  knocked  him  down,  Mr.  Jason." 

"  I  beg  3'our  pardon,  sir  ?" 

"  The  Princess,"  continued  Dumergue, 
"was  terribly  agitated  and  annoyed  at  tha 
scandal  and   the  duel  which  followed.     And 


34 

of  course  the  Countess  left  the  court,  and  re- 
turned to  England." 

"  To  England  ?" 

**  Yes;  she  was  a  Miss  Mason.  The  King 
ennobled  her  at  the  Princess's  request." 

I  smiled  and  said  : 

"And  now  there  is  a  question  about  who 
her  escort  was  ?" 

"There  is,"  said  Dumergue.  "It  is  be- 
lieved that  the  Baron  entertains  an  extraor- 
dinary idea  that  the  gentleman  in  question 
was  no  other  than — " 

"  Mj^self,"  said  the  Prince,  throwing  away 
his  cigarette. 

I  remembered  the  Baron's  strange  ques- 
tions before  the  duel. 

"  Dispose  of  me  as  you  please,  sir,"  said  I. 

"Then  you  were  at  the  ball,  and  knocked 
the  Baron  down  !"  exclaimed  Dumergue. 

"  A  thousand  thanks,"  said  the  Prince. 

"  But  what  are  we  to  do  with  him  now, 
sir?"  asked  Dumergue.  "The  Princess  will 
be  expecting  him." 

"  I  will  go  and  tell  the  Princess  of  Mr. 
Jason's  confession.  You  go  with  Mr.  Jason, 
and  tell  the  Baron  that  the  Princess  cannot 
receive  him.     I  want  him  to  see  Mr.  Jason." 

"  But,  sir,"  said  I,  "  I  didn't  fight  under  my 
own  name." 


35 

The  Prince  was  already  gone,  and  Dumer, 
gue  was  half  way  downstairs.  I  followed  the 
latter. 

We  found  the  Baron  in  the  smoking-room^ 
taking  a  cup  of  coffee.  A  couple  of  men  sat 
talking  on  a  settee  near  him  ;  otherwise  the 
room  was  empty. 

Dumergue  went  up  to  the  Baron,  I  follow- 
ing a  step  or  two  behind  him.  The  Baron 
rose  and  bowed  coldly. 

"  I  am  charged,'  said  Dumergue,  "  to  ex- 
press his  Royal  Highness's  regrets  that  her 
Royal  Highness  cannot  have  the  pleasure  of 
receiving  you.  She  has  retired  to  her  apart- 
ments." 

"  The  servant  told  me  she  was  at  supper." 

"  He  was  misinformed." 

"I'm  not  to  be  put  off  like  that.  I'll  have 
a  refusal  from  the  Princess  herself." 

"I  will  inform  his  Royal  Highness." 

The  Baron  was  about  to  answer,  when  he 
caught  sight  of  me. 

*'  Ah,  there's  the  jackal,"  he  said  with  a 
sneer. 

1  stepped  forward. 

"  Do  you  refer  to  me?"  I  asked. 

*'  Unless  I  am  wrong  in  recognizing  my 
former  antagonist.  Colonel  Despard." 


36 

This  was  just  what  I  had  anticipated. 
Dumergue  did  not  seem  surprised  either. 

"  Of  course  it  is  Colonel  Despard,"  he  said. 
"  You  would  not  be  likely  to  forget  him, 
Baron." 

We  had  been  speaking  in  a  low  tone,  but 
at  Dumergue's  sneer,  the  Baron  lost  his  tem- 
per. Raising  his  voice,  he  said,  almost  in  a 
shout : 

"  Then  I  tell  Colonel  Despard  that  he  is  a 
mean  hound." 

If  I  assumed  the  Colonel's  name,  I  felt  I 
must  at  least  defend  it  from  imputations.  I 
began. 

"  Once  before,  Baron,  I  chastised — " 

I  was  interrupted.  One  of  the  men  on  the 
settee  interposed,  rising  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  gentlemen,  but  is  it  Colonel 
Despard  of  the  Hussars  to  whom  you  refer?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Baron. 

"  Then  that  gentleman  is  not  Colonel  Des- 
pard," announced  our  new  friend.  "  I  am 
Colonel  Despard's  brother-in-law." 

For  a  moment  I  was  at  a  loss ;  things  were 
falling  out  so  very  unfortunately.  Dumergue 
turned  on  the  stranger  fiercely. 

"Pray,  sir,  was  your  interposition  solic- 
ited ?" 

"  Certainly  not.     But  if  this  gentlea)a;»  says 


37.  ' 

he  is  Colonel  Despard,  I  take  leave  to  con- 
tradict him." 

"  I  should  advise  you  to  do  nothing  of  the 
sort,"  said  I.  "  M.  Dumergue  knows  me  very 
well." 

"  This  person,"  said  the  Baron,  "  passed 
himself  off  as  Colonel  Despard,  and,  by  that 
pretext,  obtained  from  me  the  honor  of  a 
duel  with  me.  It  appears  that  he  is  a  mere 
impostor." 

The  other  man  on  the  settee  called  out 
cheerfully,  "  Bob,  send  for  the  police  I" 

Dumergue  looked  rather  sheepish;  his 
invention  failed  him.    • 

"  Do  either  or  both  of  these  gentlemen," 
said  I, indicating  the  Baron  and  the  Colonel's 
brother-in-law,  "  call  me  an  impostor?" 

"  I  do,"  said  the  Baron,  with  a  sneering 
laugh. 

"  I  am  compelled  to  assert  it,"  said  the 
other,  with  a  bow. 

I  had  edged  near  the  iittle  table  on  which 
the  Baron's  coffee  had  been  served.  I  now 
took  up  the  coffee-pot  and  milk-jug.  The 
coffee  I  threw  in  the  Baron's  face,  and  the 
milk  in  that  of  his  ally.  Both  men  sprang 
forward  with  an  oath.  At  the  same  moment, 
the  electric  light  went  out,  and  I  was  vio- 
lently  pulled    back    towards   the   door,  and 


3S 

some  one  whispered,  "Vanish  as  quick  as 
3'ou  can.     Go  home — go  anywhere." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  I,  for  I  recognized 
the  Prince's  voice.  "  But  what  are  tiiey 
doing?" 

"  Never  mind  ;  be  off."  And  the  Prince 
handed  me  a  hat. 

I  walked  quickly  to  the  door,  and  hailed  a 
hansom.  As  I  drove  off,  I  saw  the  Prince 
skip  upstairs,  and  a  posse  of  waiters  rush 
toward  the  smoking-room.  I  went  home  to 
bed. 

The  next  morning,  as  I  was  breakfasting, 
my  man  told  me  two  gentlemen  were  below, 
and  wished  to  see  me.  I  told  him  to  show 
them  up,  and  the  Prince  and  Dumergue  came 
in,  the  former  wrapped  up  in  a  fur  coat,  with 
a  collar  that  hid  most  of  his  face. 

"The  Prince  would  like  some  brandy  in  a 
little  soda-water,"  said  Dumergue, 

I  administered  the  cordial.  The  Prince 
drank  it,  and  then  turned  to  me. 

"  Did  you  get  home  all  right  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Perfectly,  sir." 

"  After  you  took  leave  of  us,  we  had  an 
explanation.  Mr.  Wetherington — it  was  Mr. 
Wetherington  at  whom  you  threw  the  milk — 
was  very  reasonable.     I  explained^  the  whole 


39 

matter,  and  he  said  he  was  sure  his  brother- 
in-law  would  pardon  the  liberty." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  took  rather  a  liberty  with 
him." 

"Oh,"  said  Dumergue,  "we  made  him 
believe  the  milk  was  meant  for  the  Baron,  as 
well  as  the  coffee.  I  said  we  took  it  au  lait 
at  Giottenberg." 

*'  It's  lucky  I  thought  of  turning  out  the 
light,"  said  the  Prince.  "  I  was  looking  on, 
and  it  seemed  about  time." 

"  What  did  the  hotel  people  say,  sir?" 

*'  They  are  going  to  sue  the  Electric  Com- 
pany," said  the  Prince,  with  a  slight  smile. 
"  It  seems  there  is  a  penalty  if  the  light  doesn't 
work  properly," 

"And  the  Baron,  sir?" 

"  We  kicked  the  Baron  out  as  a  black- 
mailer," said  Dumergue.  "He  is  going  to 
bring  an  action." 

"  I  return  to  Giottenberg  to-day,"  con- 
cluded the  Prince  ;  "  accompanied  by  the 
Princess  and  M.  Dumergue." 

I  thought  this  course  very  prudent,  and 
said  so.  "  But,"  I  added,  "  I  shall  be  called 
as  a  witness." 

"  No  ;  Colonel  Despard  will." 

"  Well,  then " 

"  He  will  establish  an  alibi.     Voilh.  tout  /" 


40 

«  I  am  glad  it  all  ends  so  happily,  sir." 
"  Well,  there  is  one  matter,"  said  the  Prince. 
*'  I  had  to  tell  the  Princess  of  your  indiscre- 
tion in  taking  Madame  Vooght — " 
*'  Who,  sir  ?" 

*' Mr.  Jason,"  put  in  Dumergue,  "  has  not 
heard  that  the  Countess  and  Vooght  are 
married." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Prince,  "  they  are  married, 
and  will  settle  in  America.  Vooght  is  a 
loss  ;  but  we  can't  have  everything  in  this 
world." 

"  I  hope  Herr  Vooght  will  be  happy," 
said  I. 

"  I  should  think  it  very  unlikely,"  said  the 
Prince.  "But,  to  return.  The  Princess  is 
very  angry  with  you.     She  insists — " 

"  That  I  should  never  be  presented  to  her 
again  ?" 

"  On  the  contrary  ;  that  you  should  come 
and  apologize  in  person.  Only  on  condition 
of  bringing  you  again,  could  I  make  my  peace 
for  bringing  you  once." 

I  was  very  much  surprised,  but  of  course  I 
said  I  was  at  the  Princess's  commands. 

"You  don't  mind  meeting  us  in  Paris? 
We  stay  there  a  few  days,"  said  Dumergue. 

*'  You  see,"  added  the  Prince,  "  Dumergue 
says  there  are  things  called  writs,  and—" 


41 

•*  I  will  be  in  Paris  to-morrow,  sir.'* 
"  I  shall  be  there  to-day,"  said  the  Prince, 
rising. 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE   MISSION   OF   THE   RUBY. 

r 

I  COULD  not  imagine  why  the  Princess  de- 
sired to  see  me.  It  would  have  been  much 
more  natural  to  punish  the  impertinence  of 
which  I  had  no  doubt  been  guilty — I  mean 
of  which  it  was  agreed  on  all  hands  that  I 
had  been  guilty — by  merely  declining  to  re- 
ceive me  or  see  me  again.  Even  the  desire 
ior  a  written  apology  would  have  been  treat- 
ing me  as  of  too  much  account.  But  she 
wanted  to  see  me.  What  I  had  heard  of  the 
Princess's  character  utterly  forbade  any  idea 
which  ought  not  to  have  been,  but  would 
have  been,  pleasant  to  entertain.  No;  she 
clearly  wanted  me,  but  what  for  I  could  not 
imagine. 

When   I   went  to  claim  my  audience,  the 

Prince  was  not  visible,  nor  Dumergue  either, 

dnd  I  was  at  once   received   by  the  Princess 

alone.     She   was  looking  smaller,  and  more 

[42J 


43 

simple  and  helpless  than  ever.  I  also  thought 
her  looking  prettier,  and  I  enjoyed  immensely 
the  pious,  severe,  forgiving  little  rebuke 
which  she  administered  to  me.  I  humbly 
craved  pardon,  and  had  no  difficulty  in  ob- 
taining it.  Indeed,  she  became  very  gracious. 

"  You  must  come  to  Glottenberg,"  she  said, 
**  in  a  few  months'  time." 

"  To  obe}''  your  Royal  Highness's  com- 
mands will  be  a  delightful  duty,"  said  I,  bow- 
ing. 

She  rose  and  stood  by  the  fire,  "  toying" 
(as  the  novelists  say)  with  her  fan. 

"  You  seem  to  be  an  obliging  man,  Mr. 
Jason,"  she  said.  "  You  were  readyto  oblige 
Madame  Vooght." 

I  made  a  gesture  of  half-serious  protest. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  continued,  "  if  you  would 
do  me  a  little  service." 

"  I  shall  be  most  honored  if  I  may  hope  to 
be  able  to,"  said  I.     What  did  she  want? 

She  blushed  slightly,  and,  with  a  nervous 
laugh,  said  : 

"  It's  only  a  short  stor3^  When  I  was  a 
3'oung  girl,  I  was  foolish  enough,  Mr.  Jason, 
to  fall  in  love — or,  at  least,  to  think  I  did. 
There  was  a  young  English  attache — I  know 
I  can  rely  on  your  perfect  discretion — at  my 
father's  court,  and   he — he  forgot  the  differ- 


44 

ence  between  us.  He  was  a  man  of  rank, 
though.  Well,  I  was  foolish  enough  to  ac. 
cept  from  him  a  very  valuable  ring — a  fine 
ruby — quite  a  family  heirloom.  Of  course,  I 
never  wore  it,  but  I  took  it.  And  when  I 
married,  I — 

She  paused. 

"  Your  Royal  Highness  had  no  opportu- 
nity of  returning  it?" 

"  Exactly.  He  had  left  the  court.  I  didn't 
know  where  he  was,  and — and  the  post  was 
not  quite  trustworthy." 

"  1  understand  perfectly." 

"  I  saw  in  the  papers  the  other  day  that  he 
was  married.  Of  course  I  can't  keep  it.  His 
wife  ought  to  have  it — and  I  dare  not — I 
would  prefer  not  to — send  it." 

"  I  see.     You  would  wish  me — ?" 

"  To  be  my  messenger.     Will  you  ?" 

Of  course  I  assented.  She  went  into  an 
adjoining  room,  and  returned  with  a  little 
morocco  case.  Opening  it,  she  showed  me  a 
magnificent  ruby,  set  in  an  old  gold  ring  of 
great  beauty. 

*•  Will  you  give  it  him?"  she  said. 

"Your  Royal  Highness  has  not  told  me  his 
name?" 

"  Lord  Daynesborough.  You  will  be  able 
to  find  him  ?" 


Mil  q  ',  V  M'^   ■■■■  '^     :--;  ..^-H! 


"  She  went  into  an  adjoiniug  room,  and  returned 
witli  a  little  morocco  case." 


45 


ti 


Oh,  yes." 

"  And  you  will — you  wi//  be  careful,  Mr. 
Jason  ?" 

"  He  shall  have  it  safely  in  three  days. 
Any  message  with  it,  madame?" 

"  No.  Yes — just  my  best  wishes  for  his 
happiness." 

I  bowed  and  prepared  to  withdraw. 

"  And  you  must  come  and  tell  me — " 

**  I  will  come  and  make  my  report." 

"  I  do  not  know  how  to  thank  you." 

I  kissed  her  hand  and  bowed  myself  out, 
mightily  amused,  and,  maybe,  rather  touched 
at  the  revelation  of  this  youthful  romance. 
Somehow  such  things  are  always  touching, 
stupid  as  they  are  for  the  most  part.  It 
pleased  me  to  find  that  the  little  Princess 
was  flesh  and  blood. 

She  followed  me  to  the  door,  and  whis- 
pered, as  I  opened  it  : 

**  I  have  not  troubled  the  Prince  with  the 
matter." 

"  Wives  are  so  considerate,"  thought  I,  as 
I  went  downstairs. 

On  arriving  in  England,  I  made  inquiries 
about  Lord  Daynesborough.  I  found  that  it 
was  seven  years  since  he  had  abruptly  thrown 
up  his  post  of  attache,  without  cause  assigned. 
After  this  event,  he  lived  in  retirement  for 


46 

some  time,  and  then  returned  into  society. 
Three  months  ago  he  had  married  Miss 
Dorothy  Codrington,  a  noted  beauty,  with 
whom  he  appeared  much  in  love,  and  had 
just  returned  from  his  wedding-tour  and 
settled  down  for  the  season  at  his  house  in 
Curzon  Street.  Hearing  all  this,  I  thought 
the  little  Princess  might  have  let  well  alone, 
and  kept  her  ring  ;  but  her  conduct  was  no 
business  of  mine,  and  1  set  about  fulfilling  my 
commission.  I  needed  no  one  to  tell  me  that 
Lady  Daynesborough  had  better,  as  the 
Princess  would  have  phrased  it,  not  be 
troubled  with  the  matter. 

I  had  no  difficulty  in  meeting  the  young 
lord.  In  spite  of  the  times  we  live  in,  a 
Jason  is  still  a  welcome  guest  in  most  houses, 
and  before  long  he  and  I  were  sitting  side  by 
side  at  Mrs.  Closmadene's  table.  The  ladies 
had  withdrawn,  and  we  were  about  to  follow 
them  upstairs.  Daynesborough  was  a  frank, 
pleasant  fellow,  and  scorned  the  affectation  of 
concealing  his  happiness  in  the  married  state. 
In  fact  he  seemed  to  take  a  fancy  to  me,  and 
told  me  that  he  would  like  me  to  come  and 
see  him  at  home. 

"  Then,"  he  said,  "  you  will  cease  to  dis- 
trust marriage." 

"  I  shall  be  most  glad  to  come,"  I  answered. 


47 

"more  especially  as  I  want  a  talk  with 
you." 

"  Do  you  ?     About  what?" 

•'  I  have  a  message  for  you." 

•*  You  have  a  message  for  me,  Mr.  Jason? 
Forgive  me,  but  from  whom  ?" 

I  leant  over  toward  him,  and  whispered, 
"  The  Princess  Ferdinand  of  Glottenberg." 

The  man  turned  as  white  as  a  sheet,  and, 
gripping  my  hand,  said  under  his  breath  : 

"  Hush  !  Surely  you — you  haven't — she 
hasn't  sent  it?" 

"  Yes,  she  has,"  said  I. 

"  Good  God  !     After  seven  3; ears  !" 

General  Closmadene  rose  from  his  chair. 
Daynesborough  drank  off  a  very  large 
*'  white-wash,"  and  added  : 

"  Come  to  dinner  to-morrow — eight  o'clock. 
We  shall  be  alone  ;  and,  for  heaven's  sake, 
sav  nothing." 

I  said  nothing,  and  I  went  to  dinner,  carry- 
ing the  ruby  ring  in  my  breast-pocket.  But 
I  began  to  wonder  whether  the  little  Princess 
was  quite  as  childlike  as  she  seemed. 

Lady  Daynesborough  dined  with  us.  She 
was  a  tall,  slender  girl,  very  handsome,  and, 
to  judge  from  her  appearance,  not  wanting 
in  resolution  and  character.  She  was  obvi- 
ously devoted  to  her  husband,  and  he  treated 


48 

her  with  an  affectionate  deference  that  seemed 
to  me  ahnost  overdone.  It  was  like  the 
manner  of  a  man  who  is  remorseful  for  having 
wounded  some  one  he  loves. 

When  she  left  us,  he  returned  to  the  table, 
and,  with  a  weary  sigh,  said  : 

"  Now,  Mr.  Jason,  I  am  ready." 

**  My  task  is  a  very  short  one,"  said  I.  "  I 
have  no  message  except  to  convey  to  you  the 
Princess's  best  wishes  for  your  happiness  on 
your  marriage,  of  which  she  has  recently 
heard,  and  to  give  you  the  ring.     Here  it  is." 

"  Have  women  no  mercy?"  groaned  he. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?"  said  I,  rather 
startled. 

"  She  waits  seven  years — seven  years  with- 
out a  word  or  a  sign — and  then  sends  it! 
And  why  ?" 

*  Because  you're  married." 

"Exactly.     Isn't  it — devilish?" 

**Not  at  all.  It's  strictly  correct.  She 
said  herself  that  your  wife  was  the  proper 
person  to  have  the  ring  now." 

He  looked  at  me  with  a  bitter  smile. 

"  My  dear  Jason,"  he  said,  "  I  have  been 
flattering  your  acumen  at  the  expense  of  your 
morality.  I  thought  you  knew  what  this 
meant." 

"  No  more  than  what  the  Princess  told  me." 


49 

"  No,  of  course  not,  or  you  would  not  have 
brought  it.  When  we  parted,  I  gave  her  the 
ring,  and  she  made  me  promise,  on  my  honor 
as  a  gentleman,  to  come  to  her  the  moment 
she  sent  the  ring — to  leave  everything  and 
come  to  her,  and  take  her  away.  And  I 
promised." 

"  And  she  has  never  sent  till  now  ?" 

"  I  never  married  till  now,"  he  said  bitterly. 
"What's  the  matter  with  her?" 

"  Nothing  that  I  know  of." 

He  rose,  went  to  a  writing-table,  and  came 
back  with  a  fat  paper  book — a  Continental 
Bradshaw. 

"  You're  not  going?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Oh,  yes.     I  promised." 

"You  promised  something  to  your  wife 
too,  didn't  you  ?" 

"  I  can't  argue  it.  I  must  go  and  see  what 
she  wants.  I — I  hope  she'll  let  me  come  back." 

I  tried  to  dissuade  him.  I  know  I  told  him 
he  was  a  fool.  I  think  I  told  him  he  was  a 
scoundrel.  I  was  not  sure  of  the  second,  but 
I  thought  it  wisest  to  pretend  that  I  was. 

"  I  hope  it  will  be  all  right,"  he  said,  again 
and  again  ;  "  but,  right  or  wrong,  I  must  go.'* 

I  took  an  immediate  resolution. 

"  I  suppose  you'll  go  by  the  eleven  o'clock 
train  to  Paris  to-morrow  ?" 


50 

*'  Yes,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  you're  wrong.     Good-night." 

At  twelve  o'clock  the  next  day,  I  called  in 
Curzon  Street,  and  sent  in  m}^  card  to  Lady 
Daynesborough. 

She  saw  me  at  once.  I  expect  that  she 
fancied  I  had  something  to  do  with  her  hus- 
band's sudden  departure.  She  was  looking 
pale  and  dispirited,  and  I  rather  thought  she 
had  been  crying.  Her  husband,  it  appeared, 
had  told  her  that  he  had  to  go  to  Paris  on 
business,  and  would  be  back  in  three  days. 

"  He  didn't  tell  you  what  it  was?" 

"  No.     Some  public  affairs,  I  understood." 

"  Lady  Daynesborough,"  said  I,  "  you 
hardly  know  me,  but  my  name  tells  you  I  am 
a  gentleman." 

She  looked  at  me  in  surprise. 

"  Why,  of  course,  Mr.  Jason.  But  what 
has  that  to  do—  ?" 

"  I  can't  explain.  But,  if  you  are  wise,  you 
will  come  with  me  to  Paris." 

"  Go  with  you  to  Paris  !  Oh !  is  he  in 
danger?" 

"  In  danger  of  making  a  fool  of  himself. 
Now,  I'll  saying  nothing  more.  Will  you 
come  ?" 

"  It  will  look  very  strange." 

«  Very." 


51 

"  In  fact — most  unusual." 

"  Most." 

"  Won't  there  be  a — a — scandal,  if — " 

"  Sure  to  be.     Will  you  come  ?" 

"  You  must  have  a  reason,"  she  said.  "  1 
will  come." 

"  We  started  that  evening,  nine  hours 
after  My  Lord,  going  separately  to  the  sta- 
tion, and  meeting  on  the  boat.  All  through 
the  journey,  she  scarcely  spoke  a  word. 
When  we  were  nearing  Paris,  she  asked  : 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  is  ?" 

"No;  but  I  can  trace  him,"  I  replied. 

So  I  could.  I  bought  a  paper,  and  found 
that  Prince  and  Princess  Ferdinand  had,  the 
day  before,  proceeded  from  Paris  en  route  for 
Glottenberg.  Of  course  Daynesborough  had 
followed  them. 

"  We  must  go  on,"  I  said. 

"Why?" 

"  Because  your  husband  has  gone  on." 

She  obeyed  me  like  a  lamb  ;  but  there  was 
a  look  about  her  pretty  mouth  that  made  me 
doubt  if  Daynesborough  would  find  her  like 
a  lamb. 

We  went  to  the  principal  hotel  in  Glotten- 
berg. I  introduced  Lady  Daynesborough  as 
my  sister,  Miss  Jac3nith  Jason,  and  stated 
that  she  was  in  weak  health,  and   would  keep 


52 

her  room  for  the  present.  Then  I  sallied 
forth,  intent  on  discov^ering  Dumergue  ;  he 
would  be  able  to  post  me  up  in  the  state  of 
affairs. 

On  my  way,  I  met  the  King  taking  his 
daily  drive.  He  was  a  dour,  sour-looking, 
pasty-faced  creature,  and  I  quite  understood 
that  he  would  fail  to  appreciate  many  of  my 
Prince's  characteristics.  A  priest  sat  by  him, 
and  a  bystander  told  me  it  was  the  King's 
confessor  (the  Glottenberg  family  are  all  of 
the  old  church),  and  added  that  the  King's 
confessor  was  no  mean  power  in  the  State.  I 
asked  him  where  M.  Dumergue  was  lodged, 
and  he  directed  me  to  Prince  Ferdinand's 
palace,  which  stood  in  a  pleasant  park  in  the 
suburbs  of  the  town. 

I  found  Dumergue  in  a  melancholy  condi- 
tion, though  he  professed  to  be  much  cheered 
by  the  sight  of  me. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  "  you,  if  any- 
body, can  get  us  out  of  this." 

"  I  never  knew  such  people,"  said  I. 
*•  What's  up  now?" 

"  There  has  been  a — an  explosion.  Did 
you  ever  hear  of  Daynesborough  ?" 

I  said  no,  and  Dumergue  told  me  of  the 
Princess's  iorvaer  pcjtchant  for  him. 

"  Well?"  said  I. 


53 

"  Well,  she's  invited  him  here,  and  he's 
now  in  the  Palace.  You  may  imagine  the 
Prince's  feelings." 

"  I  suppose  the  Prince  can  turn  him  out?" 

Dumergue  shook  his  head  dolefully. 

"  She  holds  the  trumps,"  he  answered. 
"  Jason,  she's  a  clever  woman.  We  thought 
we  had  hoodwinked  her.  When  Daynes- 
borough  turned  up,  looking,  I'm  bound  to 
sa}',  very  sheepish,  the  Prince  was  really 
quite  anno3'ed.  He  told  the  Princess  that 
she  must  send  him  away.  She  refused  flatly. 
'Then  I  shall  consult  my  brother,' says  the 
Prince.  '  I  shall  consult  the  King  too,'  said 
the  Princess.  '  It's  indecent,'  said  he.  *  It's 
not  as  bad  as  taking  my  ladies  to  masked 
balls  in  disguise,'  she  answered.  '  Oh,  you 
think  you  imposed  on  me — you  and  that 
clumsy  young  animal'  (forgive  me,  my  dear 
fellow), 'Jason.  I  am  not  an  idiot.  I  knew 
all  the  time.  And  now  the  King:  will  know 
too — unless  Lord  Daynesborough  stays  just 
as  long  as  I  like.'  " 

"  Confound  her,"  said  I. 

"  There  it  is,"  he  went  on.  "  The  Prince 
is  furious,  the  Princess  triumphant,  and 
Daynesborough  in  possession." 

"  What  does  he  mean  to  do?" 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 


54 

"  Who  can  tell  ?  She's  a  little  devil. 
Fancy  pretending  to  be  deceived,  and  then 
turning  on  us  like  this  !  You  should  have 
heard  her  describe  you,  my  boy  !"  and  Du- 
mergue  chuckled  in  sad  pleasure. 

I  object  to  being  ridiculed,  especially  by 
women.  I  determined  to  take  a  hand  in  the 
game.  I  wondered  if  they  knew  that  Daynes- 
borough  was  married. 

"  I  suppose  this  young  Daynesborough 
enjoys  himself  ?" 

"  Well,  he  ought  to.  He's  got  nothing  to 
lose  ;  but  he  seems  a  melancholy,  glum 
creature.  I  think  he  must  be  one  of  the 
King's  kidney." 

"  Or  married,  perhaps?"  I  suggested  airily. 

"Oh,  no.  She  wouldn't  have  him  here,  if 
he  were  married." 

I  saw  that  Dumergue  did  not  yet  appre- 
ciate the  Princess  in  whose  household  he  had 
the  honor  to  serve. 

"  She  won't  compromise  herself,  I  sup- 
pose ?" 

"  Not  she  !"  he  replied,  regretfully.  "  She 
may  compromise  the  Prince." 

"  I  rebuked  him  for  his  cynicism,  and 
promised  to  consider  and  let  him  know  if 
anything  occurred  to  me.  My  hope  lay  in 
Daynesborough,     I  could   see   that   he   was 


55 

galant  malgre  lid,  and  I  thought  I  could 
persuade  him  that  he  had  done  all  that  his 
mistaken  promise  fairly  entailed  on  him;  or, 
if  I  could  not  convince  him,  I  had  a  suspicion 
that  his  wife  might,  could,  and  would,  in  a 
very  peremptory  fashion,  if  I  brought  about 
an  encounter  between  them.  I  was  full  of 
eagerness,  for,  apart  from  my  zeal  in  the 
cause  of  morality  and  domestic  happiness,  I 
did  not  approve  of  being  called  a  clumsy 
young  animal.  It  was  neither  true  nor  witty, 
and  surely  abuse  ought  to  be  one  or  the 
other,  if  it  is  to  be  distinguished  from  mere 
vulgar  scurrility. 

I  have  been  told,  by  those  who  know  the 
place,  that  Glottenberg  is  not,  as  a  rule,  a 
very  exciting  residence.  But  for  the  next 
four  and  twenty  hours  I,  at  least,  had  no 
reason  to  grumble  at  lack  of  incidents. 

The  play  began,  if  I  may  so  express  my- 
self, by  the  Princess  sending  for  the  doctor. 
The  doctor,  having  heard  from  the  Princess 
what  she  wanted  to  do,  told  her  what  she 
ought  to  do;  of  course  I  speak  from  con- 
jecture. Pie  prescribed  a  visit  to  her  country 
villa  for  a  week  or  two,  plenty  of  fresh  air, 
complete  repose,  and  freedom  from  worry, 
Dumergue  told  me  that  the  Princess  con- 
sidered   that   the   terms  of  this  prescriotifU) 


56 

entailed  a  temporary  separation  from  her 
husband,  and  that  the  Prince  had  agreed 
to  remain  in  Glottenberg.  The  Princess 
started  for  her  villa  at  twelve  o'clock  on 
Wednesday  morning.  The  distance  was  but 
fifteen  miles,  and  she  traveled  by  road  in 
her  own  carriage,  although  the  main  line 
of  railway  from  Glottenberg  to  Paris  passed 
within  two  miles  of  her  destination. 

At  one  o'clock  Lord  Daynesborough  was 
received  by  Prince  Ferdinand,  having  re- 
quested an  interview  for  the  purpose  of 
taking  his  leave,  as  he  left  for  Paris  by  the 
five  o'clock  train.  Everybody  knew  that  the 
Prince  and  Daynesborough  were  not  on  cor- 
dial  terms;  but  this  fact  hardly  explained' 
Daynesborough's  extreme  embarrassment 
and  obvious  discomfort  during  the  brief  con-" 
versation.  Dumergue  escorted  him  from  the 
Prince's  presence  and  said  that  he  was 
shaking  like  an  aspen-leaf  or  an  ill-made 
blanc-mange. 

At  three  o'clock  I  went  to  the  hotel,  and 
had  an  interview  with  Lady  Daynesborough. 
I  then  returned  to  the  Palace,  and  made  a 
communication  to  the  Prince.  The  Prince 
was  distinctly  perturbed. 

"  I   never  thought  she  would  go    so  far," 


57 

he  said.     "  It's  not  that  she  cares  twopence 
about  Daynesborough." 

"To  what,  then,  sir,  do  you  attribute — ?" 

"  Temper;  all  temper,  Mr.  Jason.       She  is' 
angry   about    that    wretched    ball,   and    she 
wants  to  anger  me." 

"  Her  Royal  Highness  is,  however,  giving' 
a  handle  to  her  enemies,"  1  ventured  to 
suggest. 

"She  must  come  back  to-night,"  said  he. 
"I  won't  be  made  to  look  like  a  fool." 

"  My  plan  will,  I  hope,  dispose  of  Lord 
Daynesborough.  If  so,  your  Royal  Highness 
might  join  the  Princess." 

"  I  shan't  do  anything  of  the  sort.  I  shall 
have  her  brought  back." 

Apparently  there  was  a  reserve  of  resolu- 
tion latent  somewhere  in  this  indolent  gentle- 
man. 

"  Will  you  go  yourself,  sir?" 

"No.     You  must  do  it." 

"I,  sir!     Surely,  M.  Dumergue — " 

"Dumergue's  afraid  of  her.  Will  you 
bring  her  back  ?" 

"Supposing  she  won't  come?" 

"  I  didn't  request  you  to  ask  her  to  come. 
I  requested  you  to  bring  her." 

I  looked  at  him  inquiringly.  He  inhaled 
a  mouthful  of  smoke,  and  added,  with  a  nod  : 


58 

*'  Yes,  if  necessary." 

"  Will  your  Royal  Highness  hold  me 
harmless  from  the  King — or  the  law." 

"No.     I  can't.     Will  you  do  it?" 

"  With  pleasure,  sir." 

At  ten  minutes  to  five,  Lady  Daynesbor- 
ough,  heavily  veiled,  and  I  drove  up  to  the 
station  in  a  hired  cab,  and  hid  ourselves  in 
the  third-class  waiting-room.  At  five  min- 
utes to  five,  Lord  Daynesborough  arrived. 
He  wore  a  scarf  up  to  his  nose,  and  a  cap 
down  to  his  eyes,  and  walked  to  the  station, 
unattended,  and  without  luggage.  He  got 
into  a  second-class  smoking  carriage — one  of 
the  long  compartments  divided  into  separate 
boxes  by  intervening  partitions  reaching 
within  a  yard  of  the  roof,  a  gangway  running 
down  the  middle.  On  seeing  him  enter,  I 
caught  the  guard,  gave  him  twenty  marks, 
and  told  him  to  admit  no  one  except  myself 
and  my  companion  into  that  carriage.  Then 
I  hauled  Lady  Daynesborough  in,  and  we 
sat  down  at  the  opposite  end  to  that  occupied 
by  her  husband. 

The  train  started.  It  was  only  five-and- 
twenty  minutes'  run  to  the  station  for  the 
Princess's  villa.  There  was  no  time  to 
lose. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?"  I  whispered. 


59 

«*  Yes,"  she  answered,  her  voice  trembling 
a  little. 

We  rose,  walked  along,  and  sat  down  oppo- 
site Lord  Daynesborough.  He  was  looking 
out  of  the  window,  although  it  was  dark,  and 
did  not  turn. 

"  Lord  Daynesborough,"  said  I,  "  you  have 
forgotten  your  ticket."  And  I  held  out  a 
through  ticket  to  Paris. 

He  started  as  if  he  had  been  shot. 

"  Who  the  devil—"  he  began— "Jason  !' 

"  Yes,"  said  L     "  Here's  your  ticket." 

"  1  thought  you  were  in  England,"  he 
gasped. 

"  No,  I  am  here." 

"  Spying  on  my  actions  ?" 

"  Acquainted  with  them." 

"  I'll  have  no  interference,  sir.  If  you 
know  me,  you  will  kindly  be  silent,  and  leave 
me  to  myself." 

Time  was  passing. 

"  You  are  going  to  Paris  with  this  lady," 
said  L 

"  You're  insolent,  sir — you  and  your " 

"  Don't  say  what  you'll  regret.  She's  your 
wife." 

Well,  of  course,  he  was  very  much  in  the 
wrong,  and  looked  uncommonly  ridiculous  to 
boot.     Still,  the  wa}'  he  collapsed  was  rather 


6o 


craven.  I  withdrew  for  five  minutes.  Then 
I  returned,  and  held  out  the  ticket  again. 
He  took  it. 

"  If  you  will  leave  us  for  five  minutes,  Lady 
Daynesborough  ?" 

She  went  into  the  next  box.     Then  I  said  : 

"  Now,  we've  only  ten  minutes.  We're 
going  to  change  clothes.     Be  quick." 

I  took  off  my  coat. 

"  By  God,  I'll  not  stand  this  !" 

And  he  rose. 

In  a  moment  I  had  him  by  the  collar,  and 
was  presenting  a  pistol  at  his  head. 

"No  nonsense!"  I  whispered.  "Off  with 
them  !" 

He. might  have  known  I  would  not  shoot 
him  in  his  wife's  presence  ;  but  I  could  and 
would  have  undressed  him  with  my  own 
hands.     Perhaps  he  guessed  this. 

"  Let  me  go,"  he  muttered. 

I  released  him,  and  he  took  off  his  coat. 

The  train  began  to  slacken  speed.  I  called 
to  Lady  Daynesborough,  who  rejoined  us. 

"  You  have  fulfilled  your  promise,"  said  I  to 
the  young  man.  "  And,"  I  added,  turning  to 
her,  "I  have  fulfilled  mine.     Good  nip-ht." 

I  opened  the  door,  and  jumped  out  as  we 
entered  the  station.  I  stood  waiting  till  the 
train  started  again,  but  Lord  Daynesborough 


"  The  Princess  was  lying  on  a  lounge,  reading  a  novel." 


6i 

4 

remained  in  his  place.  I  wonder  what  passed 
on  that  journey.  She  was  a  plucky  girl,  and 
I  can  only  trust  she  gave  him  what  he 
deserved.  At  any  rate,  he  never,  so  far  as  I 
heard,  ran  away  again. 

I  asked  my  way  to  the  villa,  and  reached  it 
after  half  an  hour's  walking.  I  did  not  go  in 
by  the  lodge  gates,  but  climbed  the  palings, 
and  reached  the  door  by  way  of  the  shrub- 
beries. I  knocked  softly.  A  man  opened  the 
door  instantly.  He  must  have  been  wait- 
ing. 

"  Is  it  Milord?"  he  said,  in  French. 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  entering  rapidly. 

"  You  are  expected,  Milord." 

I  did  not  know  his  voice,  and  it  was  dark 
in  the  passage. 

"  I  am  wet,"  I  said.     "  Take  me  to  a  fire." 

"  There  is  one  in  the  pantry,"  he  answered, 
leading  the  wa)'. 

We  reached  the  pantry,  and  he  turned  to 
light  the  gas. 

Looking  at  me  in  the  full  blaze,  he  started 
back,  then  scrutinized  me  closely,  then  ex- 
claimed— 

"  What  ?     You  are  not—  !" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  am.  I  am  Lord  Daynes- 
borough." 

"  It's  a  lie.     You  are  a  robber — a — " 


62 


"  lam  Lord  Daynesborough — Lord  Daynes- 
borough — Lord  Daynesborough." 

At  each  repetition  I  advanced  a  step  nearer  ; 
at  the  last  I  produced  my  trusty  pistol,  at  the 
same  time  holding  out  a  bank-note  in  the 
other  hand. 

He  took  the  note. 

"  You  will  stay  here,"  I  said,  "  for  the  next 
two  hours.  You  will  not  come  out,  whatever 
happens.  Is  there  any  one  else  in  the 
house  ?" 

"  One  maid,  Milord,  and  a  man  in  the 
stables." 

Where  is  the  maid  ?" 

"In  the  kitchen." 

"  Is  the  man  within  hearing?" 

"  No." 

"  Good.     Is  the  Princess  upstairs  ?" 

"  She  is.  Milord." 

I  made  him  direct  me  to  the  room,  and  left 
him.  I  thought  I  would  neglect  the  maid 
and  go  straight  to  work.  I  went  up  to  the 
door  to  which  I  had  been  directed,  and 
knocked. 

"  Come  in,"  said  the  gentle,  childlike  voice. 

I  went  in.  The  Princess  was  lying  on  a 
sofa  by  the  fire,  reading  a  paper-covered 
book.  She  turned  her  head  with  a  careless 
glance. 


63 

"Ah,  you  have  come!  Well,  I  almost 
hoped  you  would  be  afraid.  I  really  don't 
want  you." 

This  reception  would  probably  have  an- 
no3'ed  Lord  Daynesborough. 

"Why  should  I  be  afraid?"  I  asked,  mim- 
icking Daynesborough's  voice  as  well  as  I 
could. 

Meanwhile  I  quietly  locked  the  door. 

"  Why,  because  of  your  wife.  I  know  you 
tremble  before  her." 

1  advanced  to  the  sofa. 

"I  have  no  wife,"  I  said;  "and,  seeing 
what  1  do,  I  thank  God  for  it." 

She  leapt  up  with  a  scream,  loud  and 
shrill. 

A  door  opposite  me  opened,  and  a  girl 
rushed  in,  crying  : 

"  Madame  !" 

"  Go  back  !"  I  said.     "  Go  back." 

She  paused,  looking  bewildered.  I  walked 
quickly  up  to  her. 

"Go  back  and  keep  quiet;"  and,  taking 
her  by  the  shoulders,  I  pushed  her  back 
into  the  next  room. 

The  Princess  rushed  to  the  other  door, 
and,  on  finding  it  locked,  screamed  again. 

"  Nobody,"  I  remarked,  "  should  embark 
on  these  things  who  has  not  good  nerves." 


64 

She  recognized  me  now.  Her  fright  had 
been  purely  physical — I  suppose  she  thought 
I  was  a  burglar.  When  she  knew  me,  she 
came  forward  in  a  dignified  way,  sat  down 
on  the  sofa,  and  said  : 

"  Explain  your  conduct,  sir,  if  you  are  in  a 
condition,  to  do  so." 

"I  am  sober,  madame,"  said  I;  "and  I 
have  two  messages  for  you." 

"  You  present  yourself  in  a  strange  way. 
Pray  be  brief,"  and  she  glanced  anxiously  at 
the  clock. 

'*  Time  does  not  press,  madame,"  said  I. 
**  Nobody  will  come." 

"Nobody  will — ?  What  do  you  mean? 
I  expect  nobody." 

"  Precisely,  madame — and  nobody  will 
come." 

Her  ivory  fan  broke  between  her  fingers 
with  a  sharp  click. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?"  she  said. 

"  To  deliver  my  messages." 
■     "Well?" 

"  First,  Lord  Daynesborough  offers  his 
apologies  for  being  compelled  to  leave  for 
Paris  without  tendering  his  farewell." 

She  turned  very  red  and  then  very  white. 
But  she  restrained  herself. 

"  And  the  other?" 


6s 

"  His  Royal  Highness  requests  that  you 
will  avail  yourself  of  my  escort  for  an  imme- 
diate return  to  Glottenberg." 

"  And  his  reasons?" 

**  Oh,  madame,  as  if  I  should  inquire 
them !" 

"  You  are  merely  insolent,  sir.  I  shall  not 
go  to-night." 

"  His  Koyal  Highness  was  very  urgent." 

She  looked  at  me  for  a  moment. 

"  Why  had  Lord  Daynesborough  to  leave 
so  suddenly  ?"  she  asked  suspiciously. 

"  His  wife  wished  it." 

"  Did  she  know  where  he  was  ?" 

"Apparently.  She  followed  him  to  Glot- 
tenberg.    She  arrived  there  yesterday." 

"  Now  I  see — now  I  understand  !  I  had  to 
deal  with  a  traitor." 

"  You  must  bestow  trust  if  you  desire  not 
to  be  deceived,  madame.  You  dared  to  use 
me  as  a  go-between." 

"  You  had  had  practise  in  the  trade." 

The  Princess  had  a  turn  for  repartee."  I 
could  not  have  set  her  right  without  quite  an 
argument.     I  evaded  the  point. 

"  And  yet  your  Royal  Highness  thought 
me  a  clumsy  animal !" 

"  Oh,  she  said,  with  a  slight  laugh,  "  it's 
wounded   amour  propre^   is   it  ?     Come,   Mr. 


66 


Jason,  I  apologize.  You  are  all  that  is  bril 
liant  and  delightful — and  English." 

"  Your  Royal  Highness  is  too  good." 

"And  now,  Mr.  Jason,  your  device  being 
accomplished,  I  suppose  I  may  bid  you  good, 
night?" 

"  I  regret,  madame,  that  I  must  press  the 
Prince's  request  on  your  notice." 

She  sighed  her  usual  impatient,  petulant 
little  sigh. 

"  Oh,  you  are  tiresome  !     Pray  go." 

"  I  cannot  go  without  you,  madame." 

"  I  am  not  going — and  my  establishment 
does  not  admit  of  my  entertaining  gentle- 
men," she  said,  with  smiling  effronter}'. 

"Your  Royal  Highness  refuses  to  allow 
me  to  attend  you  to  Glottenberg?" 

"  I  order  you  to  leave  this  room." 

"  Finally  refuses?" 

"  Go." 

"  Then  I  must  add  that  I  am  commissioned, 
if  necessary,  to  convey  your  Royal  Highness 
to  Glottenberg," 

"  To  convey  me  ?"    • 

I  bowed. 

"  You  dare  to  threaten  me  ?" 

"  I  follow  my  instructions.  Will  you  come, 
madame,  or — " 

"  Well  ?" 


67  ^ 

*'  Will  you  be  taken?" 

I  was  not  surprised  at  her  vexation.  Du- 
mergue  had,  in  his  haste,  called  her  "  a  little 
devil."     She  looked  it  then. 

"  You  mean,"  she  asked  slowly,  "  that  you 
will  use  force?" 

I  bowed. 

"  Then  I  yield,"  she  said  after  a  pause. 

I  called  the  maid,  and  told  her  to  order  the 
carriage  in  five  minutes.  The  silence  was 
unbroken  till  it  came  round.  The  Princess 
went  into  her  room,  and  returned  in  cloak 
and  hat,  carrying  a  large  muff.  She  was 
smiling. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Jason,  what  can  a  woman  do 
against  men?  I  am  ready.  We  will  go 
alone.     The  servants  can  follow." 

I  handed  her  into  the  coach,  ordering  the 
coachman  to  drive  fast.  He  was  the  only 
man  with  us,  and  we  were  alone  inside. 

I  began,  perhaps  stupidly,  to  apologize  for 
my  peremptory  conduct.  The  Princess 
smiled  amiably. 

"  I  like  a  man  of  resolution,"  she  said,  edg- 
ing, I  thought,  a  trifle  nearer  me,  her  hands 
nestling  in  her  muff. 

Apparently  she  was  going  to  try  the  efTect 
of  amiability.  I  was  prepared  for  this.  She 
would  n(jt  tempt  me  in  that  way. 


68 

**YourRo3'al  Highness  is  most  forgiving-. 

"Oh,  that  is  my  way,"  she  answered,  with 
the  kindest  possible  glance,  and  she  came 
nearer  still. 

"  You  are  a  most  generous  foe." 

She  turned  to  me  with  a  dazzling  smile. 

"  Don't  say  foe,"  she  said,  with  a  pretty 
lingering  on  the  last  word.  And  as  she  said 
it,  I  felt  a  knife  driven  hard  into  my  ribs,  and 
the  muff  dropped  to  the  ground. 

"  God  in  heaven  !"  I  cried. 

The  Princess  flung  herself  into  the  corner 
of  the  carriage. 

"  Ha — ha — ha  !  Ha — ha — ha  !"  she  laughed, 
merrily,  musically,  fiendishly. 

I  tried  to  clutch  her,  I  believe  I  should  have 
killed  her,  I  was  half  mad.  But  the  blood 
was  oozing  fast  from  the  wound — only  the 
knife  itself  held  my  life  in.  Things  danced 
before  my  eyes,  and  my  hands  fell  on  my 
lap. 

The  carriage  stopped,  the  door  opened,  and 
the  coachman  appeared.  It  was  all  like  a 
dream  to  me. 

"Take  his  feet,"  said  the  Princess.  The 
man  obeyed,  and  between  them  they  lifted,  or, 
rather,  hauled  and  pushed,  me  out  of  the 
carriage,  and  laid  me  by  the  roadside.  I  was 
almost  in  a  faint,  and  the  last  thing  I  was  con- 


69 

scious  of  was  a  pretty  mocking  mouth,  which 
said  : 

"Won't  you  escort  me,  Mr.  Jason?" — and 
then  added  to  the  coachman,  "  To  Glotten- 
berg — quick!" 

I  did  not  die.  I  was  picked  up  by  some 
good  folk,  and  well  tended.  Dumergue 
arrived  and  looked  after  me,  and  in  a  couple 
of  weeks  1  was  on  my  legs. 

"  Now  for  Glottenberg  !"  said  I. 

Dumergue  shook  his  head. 

"  You  won't  be  admitted  to  the  town." 

*'  Not  admitted  !" 

"  No.  They  have  made  it  up — for  the 
time.  There  must  be  no  scandal.  Come, 
Jason,  surely  you  see  that?" 

"She  tried  to  murder  me." 

"  Oh,  quite,  quite,"  said  he.  *'  But  you 
can't  prosecute  her." 

"And  I  am  to  be  turned  adrift  by  the 
Prince?" 

"  What  use  would  it  be  to  return  ?  No 
doubt  you  annoyed  her  very  much." 

"  I  wish  you. had  undertaken  the  job." 

"  I  know  her.  I  should  have  ridden  out- 
side." 

"  It  is,  then,  the  Prince's  wish  that  I  should 
not  return  ?" 


70 

"  Yes.  But  he  charges  me  to  say  that  he 
will  never  forget  your  friendly  services." 

I  was  disgusted.  But  I  would  force  myself 
on  no  man. 

"  Then  I'll  go  home." 

"  That  will  be  much  best,"  he  answered, 
with  revolting  alacrity. 

"  I  say,  Dumergue,  what  does  the  Princess 
say  about  me  ?" 

"  She  laughs  every  time  your  name  is  men- 
tioned, and — " 

''The  devil  take  her!" 

"  She  says  you  may  keep  the  knife  !" 

I  have  it  still,  a  little  tortoise-shell  handled 
thing,  with  a  sharp — a  very  sharp — point. 
On  the  blade  is  engraved,  in  German  letters, 
*'  Sophia."  It  is  a  pretty  toy,  and  in  its 
delicacy,  its  tininess,  its  elegance,  its  seeming 
harmlessness,  and  its  very  sharp  point,  it 
reminds  me  much  of  Princess  Ferdinand  of 
Glottenberg. 


A  TRAGEDY  IN  OUTLINE. 


I. 


Dear  Mr.  Brown,—  *    *     *    *_ 

Yours  sincerely, 

M.  Robinson. 


II. 


My  dear  Mr.  Brown,—  ^    ♦    *    *__ 
Always  yours  very  sincerely, 

Minnie  Robinson. 


III. 

My  dear— Jack  (!)  —  *    *    *    *_ 
Yours  always, 

Minnie  Robinson. 

[71] 


72 


IV. 


My  dearest  Jack, —  *    *    *    * — 

Yours, 

Minnie. 


V. 


My  darling  Jack, —  *     *    *     * — 

Lovingly,  your — 

MiN. 


VI. 

My  dearest  Jack, —  *    *    *    *  — 

Lovingly, 

Minnie. 


VIL 

My  dear  Jack, —  *    *    *    *  — 

With  love, 

Yours, 
Minnie. 


73 

VIII. 

Dear  Jack,—  *    *    *    *  — 

Ever  yours, 

Minnie  Robinson. 


IX. 

My  dear  Mr.  Brown,—  *     *     *    *  — 
Your  sincere  friend, 

Minnie  Robinson. 


X. 


Dear  Mr.  Brown,—  *     *     *    * 

Yours  sincerely, 

M.  Robinson. 


XI. 
Silence. 


A  MAL-A-PROPOS  PARENT. 

Young  Mr.  Pippitt  had  a  father  somewhere 
in  America.  Every  one  who  knew  young 
Mr.  Pippitt  knew  that ;  for  he  had  often 
spoken  of  his  father,  of  the  fortune  he  was 
making,  and  of  the  liberal  presents  he  sent 
home.  Then  came  a  time  when  young  Mr. 
Pippitt  said  less  about  his  father  and  less 
about  the  presents.  Thus  it  was  that  people 
had  almost  forgotten  the  existence  of  old 
Mr.  Pippitt,  when  it  was  recalled  to  their 
memories  in  a  very  startling  and  tragical 
way.  Old  Mr.  Pippitt  had  landed  in  England 
and  was  on  his  way  to  London,  when  he  was 
killed  in  a  great  railway  disaster.  His  name, 
discovered  from  a  letter  in  his  pocket,  was 
published  ;  and  young  Mr.  Pippitt  flew  to  the 
scene.  The  body  was  not  mangled  or  dis- 
figured, and  after  one  moment  of  extreme 
agitation  the  bereaved  son  informed  the  offi- 
cial who  had  led  him  to  where  the  dead  man 
lay  that  it  was  indeed  his  father.  His 
[74] 


75 

evidence  before  the  coroner  put  the  matter 
beyond  doubt.  Mr.  Pippitt  buried  his  father, 
assumed  deep  mourning-,  and  wrote  to  the 
company's  solicitors.  Repugnant  as  it  was 
to  him  to  appear  to  make  money  out  of  the 
unhappy  occurrence,  the  loss  of  a  rich  and 
liberal  parent  was  a  matter  which  no  strug- 
gling young  man  could,  in  justice  to  himself, 
submit  to  without  compensation. 

Railway  companies,  having  an  extensive 
experience  of  humanity,  are  prone  to  scepti- 
cism ;  and  very  many  inquiries  were  made  as 
to  the  life,  doings,  profession,  and  profits  of 
old  Mr.  Pippitt,  and  especially  as  to  his 
alleged  remittances  to  his  son.  That  gentle- 
man stood  the  fire  of  questions  very  success- 
fully ;  he  had  letters  from  his  father  up  to 
within  six  months  of  the  accident,  and  he 
proved  the  receipt  of  very  considerable 
yearly  sums,  in  each  of  the  four  years  during 
which  his  father  had  been  absent.  In  face  of 
this  evidence,  the  matter  in  issue  reduced 
itself  to  a  difference  of  opinion  between  the 
company  and  young  Mr.  Pippitt ;  first,  as  to 
the  probability  of  old  Mr.  Pippitt  continuing 
to  make  money,  secondly,  as  to  the  proba- 
bility of  his  continuing  to  share  what  he  made 
with  his  son.  More  concretely  still,  the  com- 
pany,   without  prejudice,  offered    two   thou- 


76 

sand  pounds,  and  Mr.  Pippitt,  'without  pre- 
judice, asked  seven  thousand  ;  whereupon 
the  case  was  entered  for  trial. 

Mr.  Naylor,  the  company's  counsel,  de- 
clared that  young  Mr.  Pippitt  was  one  of  the 
best  witnesses  he  had  ever  seen.  His  de- 
meanor was  excellent,  his  facts  irrefragable, 
his  memory  neither  unnaturally  bad  nor 
suspiciously  good.  The  last  letter  he  pro- 
duced from  his  father  enclosed  a  draft  for 
three  hundred  pounds,  and  announced  the 
writer's  return  on  a  business  visit  by  the  next 
mail  but  one.  By  that  mail,  a  gentleman  of 
the  name  of  Pippitt  had  crossed  the  ocean, 
and  had  presumably  taken  the  train  on 
landing,  and  met  his  death  in  the  accident. 
Mr.  Naylor  felt  his  case  was  so  bad  that  he 
almost  charged  young  Mr.  Pippitt  with 
direct  perjury,  and  twisted  up  a  note  to  Mr* 
Budge,  who  was  on  the  other  side,  offering 
four  thousand  pounds  and  costs.  Mr.  Budge 
answered  that  he  must  consult  his  client,  and 
that  he  would  wait  till  the  end  of  the  plain, 
tiff's  evidence.  Mr.  Naylor  nodded,  and  re- 
doubled his  insinuations  of  an  unscrupulous 
conspiracy. 

Mr.  Budge  rose  to  re-examine  with  a  smile 
on  his  face.  Mr.  Pippitt  said  he  had  no 
reason  to  anticipate  a  falling-off  in  his  lather's 


17 

business  ;  it  was  well  established ;  nor  in  his 
father's  liberality;  his  father  had  always  led 
him  to  suppose  that  he  would  provide  for 
him.  Yes,  there  was  a  strong — yes,  a  very 
strong  affection  between  them.  Here  Mr. 
Pippitt's  voice  faltered  ;  the  judge  nodded 
sympathetically;  and  the  foreman  of  the  jury 
wrote  "  ^5,000  ?"  on  a  slip  of  paper  and  passed 
it  round  the  box. 

That  artistic  falter  produced  another  effect 
also.  The  gangways  of  the  court  were 
crowded  with  the  usual  throng  of  idle  folk, 
assembled  to  hear  Mr.  Naylor's  cross-examina- 
tion ;  and  as  the  plaintiff  bore  witness  to  the 
bonds  of  love  which  bound  him  to  his  father, 
there  came  from  the  recesses  of  the  crowd  a 
voice  which  said  : 

*'  That  there  is  !  Let  me  through  !  Who's 
saying  my  boy  doesn't  love  his  old  father?" 

The  group  of  people  parted  ;  and  an  elderly 
man  came  to  the  front,  advancing  in  an  un- 
certain, apologetic  manner. 

"Silence!  silence!"  cried  the  usher,  a 
world  of  pained  indignation  in  his  accents. 

"You  mustn't  disturb  *  the  court,  sir!" 
thundered  the  judge. 

"  I  came  to  speak  a  word  for  Joe.  I  was 
passing,  and   dropped   in,  and,  seeing  Joe,  I 


78 

made  bold  to  speak.     He's   been  a  good  son, 
has  Joe." 

The  judge  looked  appealingly  at  counsel. 

"Who  is  Joe,  and  who  is  this  person?" 
And  getting  no  answer,  he  turned  to  the 
plaintiff.  Young  Mr.  Pippitt  met  his  eye 
with  an  uneasy  smile. 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea,  my  lord,"  he  said. 

The  judge  looked  at  the  writ. 

"Your  name  is  Joseph  ?"  he  asked. 

"  No,  it — yes — that  is,  certainly,  my  lord." 

"  You  don't  seem  very  sure,  sir,"  remarked 
the  judge ;  and  he  added,  addressing  the 
intruder,  "  Who  are  you,  sir?" 

The  old  man  seemed  in  a  nervous  and 
broken-down  condition ;  but  he  stammered 
out,  "  He's  my  son,  my  lord." 

"  It's  a  lie,"  cried  young  Mr.  Pippitt. 

"Hold  your  tongue  till  you're  asked  to 
speak,"  said  his  lordship  snappishly.  "  I 
want  to  hear  what  this  man  has  to  say." 

The  old  man  had  much  to  saj'  ;  much  of 
young  Mr.  Pippitt's  virtue,  industry,  and 
affection  ;  and  much  of  his  own  fortunes,  mis- 
fortunes, and  wrongs.  He  usurped  the 
functions  of  both  lawyer  and  witness,  and  all 
the  court  listened  to  him. 

"  Pm  glad  to  be  here,  gentlemen,"  he  said 
— "  glad  to  be  here.     I  thought  I  was  never 


79 

going  to  get  out  of  that  cell  they  put  me  in, 
not  for  long  years.  But  here  I  am,  Joe, 
thank  God  !" 

"  Who  put  you  in  a  cell  ?"  asked  the  judge. 

"  I'm  telling  you  as  fast  as  I  can,"  an- 
swered the  old  man  petulantly.  "  I'd  just 
written  to  Joe  to  send  him  a  bit  of  money 
and  tell  him  to  look  out  for  me,  when  they 
brought  a  charge  of  fraud  against  me — 
against  me,  a  respectable  merchant.  And  I 
was  tried  :  tried  and  found  guilty — unjustly, 
my  lord — and  sentenced  to  five  years.  To 
think  of  it !  They  didn't  know  me  out  in 
Louisiana ;  no  east-coast  jury  would  have 
convicted." 

"  Why  didn't  they  know  you  ?" 

"  I  wasn't  going  to  have  my  name  known. 
I  called  m3'self  Brown ;  and  they  convicted 
me — as  I  wrote  to  you,  Joe — for  five  years. 
But  the  Governor  did  his  duty.  He  was  a 
white  man,  the  Governor.     He  let  me  out." 

"  Why  ?"  asked  the  judge  curiously. 

"  Was  a  white  man  to  get  five  years  for 
besting  a  nigger?"  demanded  the  old  man 
with  his  first  approach  to  vigor.  "  Not  if 
the  Governor  knew  it !  Oh,  he  was  a  white 
man.  So  here  I  am,  Joe — here  I  am,  thank 
God  !" 

The     judge    leant    forward     and     asked. 


8o 

*'  Hav^e  you  any  letters  from  the  man  you  say 
is  your  son?" 

The  old  man  pulled  a  dirty  letter  out  of 
his  pocket,  and  handed  it  up  with  a  bewil- 
dered look. 

Young-  Mr.  Pippitt  still  looked  on  with  his 
fixed  smile,  while  the  judge  read: — 

"  Dear  Father, 

"  It's  a  bad  job  that  you're  nabbed. 
Five  years  is  no  joke.  Why  were  you  such 
a  fool?  You  were  right  about  the  name. 
Keep  it  quite  dark,  for  God's  sake  !  I'll  see 
what  I  can  do. 

"  Yours, 

"  J.  P. 

"  Received  your  last  all  right." 

"Is  that  your  handwriting?"  the  judge 
asked  of  the  plaintiff;  but  young  Mr.  Pippitt 
swayed  to  and  fro  and  fell  in  a  faint  in  the 
witness-box.  The  judge  turned  to  Mr. 
Budge. 

"  Do  you  desire,"  he  asked,  "  that  this  man 
should  be  sworn,  and  repeat  his  evidence  on 
oath,  so  that  you  may  cross-examine  him  ?" 

Mr.  Budge  looked  at  his  inanimate  client, 
and  answered,  "  L  do   not,  my  lord.     I  shall 


8i 


probably  have  your  lordship's  approval  in 
withdrawing  from  the  case?" 

While  the  judge  directed  the  jury  to 
return  a  verdict  for  the  defendant,  the  old 
man  had  anxiously  watched  the  usher,  who 
was  unloosing  young  Mr.  Pippitt's  neckcloth. 
When  the  plaintiff  revived,  the  old  man  leant 
over  to  Mr.  Budge,  and  said,  with  a  pleased 
smile,  "  Oh,  he'll  be  all  right  directly,  won't 
he?  I  thought  1  could  help  a  bit.  I  have 
helped  a  bit,  haven't  I  ?" 

"  You've  helped  him  to  twelve  months' 
hard  labor,"  said  Mr.  Budge.    • 

But  the  old  man  did  not  understand  what 
it  all  meant,  till  one  day  they  took  him  to 
Kensal  Green,  and  showed  him  a  handsome 
tombstone.     The  inscription  ran  : — 

♦*  In  Memory  of  James  Pippitt — " 

The  old  man  read  and  laughed. 
"To   think   of  that!"   he  said.     "It   beats 
everything  !" 

He  read  on  with  a  chuckle — 

"  Erected  by  his  sorrowing  son,  Joseph 
Pippitt.  Born  13th  December,  1821.  Died 
5th  February,  1891.  '  I  shall  go  to  him,  but 
he  shall  not  return  to  me.'  " 


82 

This  prophecy  might  or  might  not  be  true 
of  the  person  interred  beneath  the  tombstone. 
On  its  unfortunate  inapplicability  to  his 
father,  and  on  the  tainting  of  the  fountain  of 
Louisiana  justice,  young  Mr.  Pippitt  enjoyed 
twelve  months'  quiet  reflection. 


HOW  THEY    STOPPED    THE  "  RUN." 

There  was  a  run  on  the  Sandhill  and  Dis- 
trict Bank.  It  had  lasted  the  whole  of  one 
day,  and  had  shown  no  signs  of  abating  in 
the  evening.  If  it  lasted  another  day  !  Old 
Mr.  Bradshaw  wiped  his  brow.  It  had  come 
just  at  the  awkwardest  time — just  after  the 
farmers  had  got  their  usual  loans,  just  when 
securities  were  hard  to  realize  ;  in  fact,  just 
at  the  moment  when  the  bank,  though  in 
reality  solvent,  was  emphatically  not  in  a 
position  to  answer  a  long-continued  demand 
for  payment  on  the  spot.  Mr.  Bradshaw 
groaned  out  all  these  distressing  facts  to  his 
son  Dick.  It  was,  indeed,  no  use  talking  to 
Dick,  for  he  took  no  interest  in  business,  and 
had  spent  the  day  in  a  boat  with  the  Flirting- 
ton  girls  ;  still,  Mr.  Bradshaw  was  bound  to 
talk  to  some  one. 

"  We  shall  have  to  put  the  shutters  up. 
One  day's  grace  would  save  us,  I  believe ; 
we  could  get  the  money  then.     But  if  they're 

[83] 


84 

at  us  again  to-morrow  morning  we  can't  last 
two  hours." 

Dick  sympathized,  but  had  nothing  to  sug- 
gest, except  that  it  would  not  make  matters 
worse  if  he  carried  out  his  engagement  to  go 
to  the  circus  with  the  Flirtington  girls. 

"  Oh,  go  to  h — II  with  the  Flirtington  girls 
if  you  like,"  groaned  Mr.  Bradshaw. 

So  Dick  went — to  the  circus  (the  other 
expedition,  as  he  observed,  would  keep),  and 
enjoyed  the  performance  very  much,  espe- 
cially the  lion-taming,  which  was  magnificent, 
and  so  impressed  Dick  that  he  deserted  his 
companions,  went  behind  the  scenes,  and  in- 
sisted on  standing  Signor  Philippini  several 
glasses. 

"Is  that  big  chap  quite  safe?"  he  asked, 
admiringly. 

"  /can  do  anythink  with  'im,"  said  the  Sig- 
nor (whose  English  was  naturally  defective); 
*' but  with  any  one  helse  'e's  a  roarer, 'e  is, 
and  no  mistake." 

After  the  performance,  Dick  took  the  Flirt- 
ington girls  home  ;  thqn,  with  a  thoughtful 
look  on  his  face,  he  went  and  had  some  talk 
with  his  father,  and  came  away,  carefully 
placing  a  roll  of  notes  in  his  breast-pocket. 
Then  he  sought  Signor  Philippini's  society 
once    more.     And    that's  all   that  is   really 


85  "» 

known  about  it — if,  that  is,  we  discard  the 
obviously  fanciful  statement  of  Fanny  Flirt- 
ington,  that,  as  she  was  gazing  at  the  moon 
about  two  A.  M.,  she  saw  a  heavy  wagon, 
drawn  by  two  horses  and  driven  by  Signor 
Fhilippini,  pass  along  the  streets  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  bank.  She  must  have  been  wrong ; 
for  Fhilippini,  by  the  evidence  of  his  Signora 
(whose  name,  notwithstanding  that  Fhilip- 
pini's  morals  were  perfectly  correct,  was  Mrs. 
Buggins),  went  to  bed  at  eleven-thirty,  and 
snored  like  a  pig  all  night. 

However  these  things  may  be,  this  is  what 
happened  next  morning.  When  the  first  of 
the  depositors  arrived  at  seven  A.  M.,  they 
found  one  of  the  windows  of  the  bank  smashed 
to  pieces  and  the  shutter  hanging  loose.  A 
cry  went  up  that  there  had  been  a  robbery, 
and  one  or  two  men  began  to  climb  in.  They 
did  not  get  far  before  a  fearful  roar  proceeded 
from  the  neighborhood  of  the  counter.  They 
looked  at  one  another,  and  said  it  would  be 
more  regular  to  wait  for  the  officials.  The 
roars  continued.  They  sent  for  Mr.  Brad- 
shaw.  Hardly  had  he  arrived  (accompanied 
by  Dick,  breathless  and  in  shirt-sleeves) 
before  the  backmost  rows  of  the  now  consid- 
erable crowd  became  agitated  with  a  new 
sensation.    The  news  spread  rapidly.    Frantic 


86 

men  ran  to  and  fro  ;  several  ladies  fainted  ; 
the  circus-proprietor  was  sent  for.  A  lion 
had  escaped  from  the  menagerie,  and  was 
supposed  to  be  at  large  in  the  town  ! 

"  Send  for  Philippini !"  cried  the  proprietor. 
They  did  so.  Philippini  had  started  early  for 
a  picnic  in  the  country,  and  would  not  return 
till  just  before  the  performance  in  the  even- 
ing.    The  proprietor  was  in  despair. 

"  Where's  the  beast  gone  to  ?"  he  cried. 

A  roar  from  the  bank  answered  his  ques- 
tion. 

"  Well,  I'm  blowed  if  he's  not  in  the  bank  !" 
exclaimed  the  proprietor. 

It  certainly  appeared  to  be  the  fact  that 
Atlas  (that  was  the  lion's  name)  had  taken 
refuge  in  the  bank,  and  was  in  full  possession 
of  the  premises  and  assets.  Under  these 
circumstances  there  was,  Mr.  Bradshaw 
explained,  a  difficulty  in  resuming  cash 
payments ;  but  if  his  check  would  be 
accepted —  The  crowd  roared  almost  as 
loud  as  Atlas  at  such  an  idea.  Something 
must  be  done.  They  sent  for  the  mayor  ;  he 
repudiated  liability.  They  sent  for  the  fire 
brigade  and  the  lifeboat  crew  ;  neither  would 
come.  They  got  guns,  and  peppered  the 
furniture.  Atlas  retired  behind  the  fireproof 
safe  and  roared  worse  than  ever.     Meanwhile 


87     ' 

the  precious  hours  were  passing.  Mr.  Brad- 
shaw's  money  was  also  on  its  way  from  Lon- 
don.    At  last  Dick  took  a  noble  resolution. 

"  I  will  go  in  at  any  cost,"  he  cried  ;  and, 
in  spite  of  Fanny  Flirtington's  tears,  he  scaled 
the  window  and  disappeared  from  view.  The 
crowd  waited  to  hear  Atlas  scrunching  ;  but 
he  only  roared.  When  Dick  was  inside,  he 
paused  and  asked  in  a  low  voice,  "  Is  he 
chained?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Signor  Philippini  from 
behind  the  safe.  "  Is  the  Aunt  Sally  business 
over  ?"  and  he  came  out  with  a  long  pole  in 
his  hand.  He  used  the  pole  to  stir  poor 
Atlas  up  when  the  roars  became  deficient  in 
quantity  or  quality. 

"  The  money  ought  to  be  here  in  three 
hours,"  said  Dick.  "  Have  you  got  the  back- 
door key  ?"  • 

Philippini  reassured  him.  Then  Dick  took 
a  wild,  running  leap  at  the  window  ;  Philip- 
pini stirred  up  Atlas,  who  roared  lustily. 
Dick  escaped  with  his  life,  and  landed,  a 
breathless  heap,  at  the  mayor's  feet.  The 
mayor  raised  him,  and  said  he  should  write 
to  her  Majesty,  and  suggest  that  Dick  would 
be  a  proper  recipient  of  the  Albert  Medal, 
and  the  vicar  (who  had  no  money  in  the  bank) 
indignantly    asked   the   crowd  if  they  could 


88 

not  trust  a  family  which  produced  scions  like 
that.  Several  people  cried  "Hear,  hear!" 
and  told  Mr.  Bradshaw  that  they  never  really 
meant  to  withdraw  their  deposits.  Mr.  Brad- 
shaw thanked  them,  and  looked  at  his  watch. 

At  half-past  three  Philippini  ran  up  ;  he 
also  was  breathless,  and  his  shoes  were  dusty 
from  walking  in  the  country.  At  once  he 
effected  an  entry,  amid  a  scene  of  great 
excitement.  A  moment  later  he  appeared  at 
the  window,  and  cried  in  a  terror-stricken 
voice  : 

.  "  I  can't  'old  'im  !  I  can't  'old  'im  !  'E's 
mad  !  Look  out  for  yourselves !"  and  he 
leapt  from  the  window. 

The  crowd  fled  in  all  directions,  and  two 
boys  were  all  but  run  over  by  a  cart  which 
was  being  driven  rapidly  from  the  railway 
station  to  the  bank. 

"  All  right,"  said  Dick  to  the  Signor ; 
"bring  up  the  wagon."  And  then,  with  great 
difficulty  and  consummate  courage,  the 
Signor  and  Dick  brought  an  iron  cage  up  to 
the  window,  and  drove  Atlas  in.  The  opera- 
tion took  more  than  an  hour,  because  they 
had  to  feed  Atlas  and  drink  a  bottle  of 
champagne  themselves  before  they  set  about 
it.  So  that  it  was  six  o'clock  before  Atlas 
was  out,  and  the  money  was  in,  and  the  Sand- 


89 

hill  and  District  Bank  opened  its  doors  for 
business. 

'*  We  gained  just  the  time  we  needed,"  said 
Mr.  Bradshaw.  "  It  was  dirt-cheap  at  fifty 
pounds  !" 

And  Dick,  although  he  did  not  get  the 
Albert  Medal,  was  taken  into  partnership, 
and  married  Fanny  Flirtington.  It  was  the 
only  way  of  preventing  her  seeing  things 
she  was  not  meant  to  see  out  of  the  window 
at  two  A.  M.  and  chattering  about  them  in 
public. 


A  LITTLE  JOKE. 

A  DAY  or  two  before  Easter,  I  was  sitting' 
in  my  office,  finishing  up  some  scraps  of 
work,  and  ever  and  anon  casting  happy 
glances  at  my  portmanteau,  which  stood  in 
the  corner.  I  was  just  off  to  spend  a  fort- 
night with  my  old  friend  Colonel  Gunton,  in 
Norfolk,  and  I  was  looking  forward  to  seeing 
him  again  with  great  pleasure.  We  had  not 
met  for  ten  years,  and  I  had  never  been  to 
his  place  or  seen  any  of  his  family.  It  would 
be  delightful. 

The  telephone  bell  rang. 

"  Oh,  confound  it  !  I  hope  that's  nothing 
to  keep  me  !"  I  exclaimed  ;  and  I  rose  to  see 
to  it. 

"  Mr.  Miller  ?     Are  you  there  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"All  right.     I'll  come  round." 

"  A  few  minutes  passed,  and  then  my  clerk 
announced,  "  A  lady  to  see  you,  sir." 

A  remarkably  pretty  girl  of  about  eighteen 

[90] 


91 

was  ushered  in.  She  stood  still  some  way 
from  me  till  the  door  was  closed.  Then  she 
suddenly  rushed  toward  me,  fell  at  my  feet, 
and  exclaimed,  "  You  will  protect  me,  won't 
you  ?" 

"My  .dear  young  lady,  what  in  the 
world—?" 

"  You're  the  famous  Mr.  Miller,  aren't  you  ? 
Mr.  Joseph  Miller,  the  philanthropist?" 

"  My  name  is  Joseph  Miller,  certainly." 

"  Ah  I  Then  I  am  safe  ;"  and  she  sat  down 
in  an  armchair,  and  smiled  confidingly  at  me^ 

"Madame,"  said  I,  sternly,  "  will  you  have 
the  goodness  to  explain  to  what  I  owe  the 
pleasure  of  this  visit?" 

"  They  told  me  to  come  to  you." 

"Who?" 

"  Wh}',  the  people  at  the  police  station."' 

"The  police  station?" 

"  Yes,  when  they  let  me  go — because  it 
was  a  first  offense,  you  know.  The}'  said 
you  always  took  up  cases  like  mine,  and  that 
if  I  stuck  to  you  I  should  be  well  looked 
after." 

It  was  quite  true  that  I  have  taken  ar» 
interest  in  rescuing  young  persons  from 
becoming  habitual  criminals;  but  I  waa 
hardly  prepared  for  this. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing?" 


92 

"  Oh,  nothing  this  time — only  a  bracelet." 

*'This  time?" 

"  They  didn't  know  me  up  here,"  she 
explained,  smilingly.  "  I've  always  practised 
in  the  country.  Wasn't  it  lucky  ?  But 
really,  Mr.  Miller,  I'm  tired  of  it ;  I  am 
indeed.  The  life  is  too  exciting  ;  the  doctors 
say  so  ;  so  I've  come  to  you." 

The  case  was  a  strange  one,  but  I  had  no 
time  to  investigate  it  now.  It  wanted  only 
half  an  hour  to  the  time  my  train  left  Liver- 
pool street. 

"  What  is  your  name?"  I  asked. 

**  Sarah  Jones." 

"  Well,  I  will  have  your  case  looked  into. 
Come  and  see  me  again;  or,  if  you  are  in 
distress,  you  may  write  to  me — at  Cohmel 
Gunton's,  Beech  Hill,  Norfolk.  I  shall  be 
staying  there — " 

"  Going  now  ?" 

"  I  start  in  a  few  minutes." 

*'  Oh,  I'll  come  with  vou." 

"  Madame,"  I  answered,  with  emphasis,  "I 
will  see  you — out  of  the  office  first." 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  ?  Oh,  it's  nonsense  ! 
I  shall  come.     I  shall  say  I  belong  to  you." 

I  rang  the  bell. 

"  Show  this  lady  out,  Thomas,  at  once." 

She  laughed,  bowed,  and  went.     Evidently 


93 

a  most  impudent  hussy.  I  finished  my  busi- 
ness, drove  to  Liverpool  street,  and  estab- 
lished myself  in  a  first-class  smoking  carriage. 
1  was  alone,  and  settled  myself  for  a  com- 
fortable cigar.  I  was  rudely  interrupted. 
Just  as  the  train  was  starting,  the  door  opened 
— and  that  odious  young  woman  jumped  in. 

"  There  !     I  nearly  missed  you  !"  she  said. 

"  I  can  hold  no  communication  with  you," 
said  I,  severely  ;  "  you  are  a  disgrace  to  your 
— er — sex." 

"  It's  all  right.     I've  wired  to  the  Colonel." 

"You've  wired  to  my  friend,  Colonel 
Gunton  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  didn't  want  to  surprise  them.  I 
said  you  would  bring  a  friend  with  you.  It's 
all  right,  Mr.  Miller." 

"  I  don't  know  who  you  are  or  what  you 
are  ;  but  the  Guntons  are  respectable  people, 
and  I  am  a  respectable  man,  and — " 

"  That's  no  reason  why  you  should  prome- 
nade up  and  down,  Mr.  Miller.  It's  very 
uncomfortable  for  me." 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  insolent 
behavior  ?" 

"  Why  not  be  friendly  ?  We're  off  now. 
and  I  must  go  on." 

"  I  shall  give  you  in  charge  at  the  next 
station." 


94 

"  What  for  ?" 

On  reflection,  I  supposed  she  had  committed 
no  criminal  offense  ;  and  with  a  dignified  air 
I  opened  my  paper. 

"I  don't  mind  your  smoking,"  she  said,  and 
took  out  a  box  of  chocohites. 

*'  I  was  at  my  wit's  end.  Either  this  girl 
was  mad  or  she  was  a  dangerous  and  un- 
scrupulous person.  She  was  quite  capable  of 
making  a  most  unpleasant  and  discreditable 
commotion  on  the  platform  at  Beech  Hill 
Station.     What  in  the  world  was  I  to  do? 

"  Shall  we  stay  long  at  the  Gunton's?"  she 
asked. 

"  You,  madame,  will  never  go  there." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  shall." 

"  Indeed  you  won't.  I'll  take  care  of  that. 
The  police  will  see  to  that." 

"  I  don't  care  a  fig  for  the  police.  I  shall 
go  and  stay  as  long  as  you  do.  They  told 
me  to  stick  to  you." 

I  became  angry.  Any  man  would  have. 
But  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  losing  my 
temper.     I  took  out  a  sovereign. 

"If  you'll  get  out  at  the  next  station,  I'll 
give  you  this." 

She  laughed  merrily. 

"  1  thought  you  went  in  for  personal  super- 
vision, not  mere  pecuniary  doles,"  she  said. 


95 

"  I  read  that  in  your  speech  at  the  Charity 
Organization  meeting.  No  ;  I'm  not  to  be 
bribed.     I'm  going  to  the  Gunton's." 

"  It's  absurd.  It's  preposterous.  What 
will — what  will  Mrs.  Gunton  say?" 

"  Oh,  she  won't  mind,"  answered  my  com- 
panion, with  a  confident  nod.  "  She's  used 
to  girls  like  me." 

"  You  surprise  me,"  I  retorted,  sarcastically; 
but  she  only  laughed  again. 

I  returned  to  my  paper. 

An  hour  passed  in  silence.  The  train 
began  to  slacken  speed  as  we  neared  the 
station  next  before  Beech  Hill.  She  looked 
up  and  said  : 

"Would  you  really  rather  I  didn't  come 
with  you  ?" 

I  had  passed  a  wretched  hour.  This  girl 
was  evidently  bent  on  blasting  my  charac- 
ter. 

"  Madame,"  said  I,  "  if  you  will  get  out  at 
this  station,  I'll  give  you  a  five-pound  note." 

"What?  I  heard  you  never  gave  away  a 
farthing!  They  said  no  one  could  get  a 
penny  out  of  you." 

"  It  is  true  that  I  disapprove  of  indis- 
criminate charity  ;  but,  under  the  circum- 
stances, I — " 


90 

"  Think  I  am  a  deserving  object  ?  Well,  I'll 
take  it." 

With  a  sigh  of  relief,  I  took  a  note  from  my 
pocket-book,  and  gave  it  her. 

"  I'll  pay  it  back  soon,"  she  said. 

"  Never  let  me  see  your  face  again." 

"  Apologize  for  me  to  the  Guntons. 
Good-by." 

She  jumped  out  lightly,  and  I  sank  back 
murmuring  : 

"  Thank  Heaven  !" 

After  I  got  rid  of  her,  my  journey  was 
peaceful  and  happy,  and  I  forgot  my  troubles 
in  the  warm  greeting  my  old  friend  Bob 
Gunton  and  his  wife  gave  me.  The  girl 
must  have  lied  about  the  telegram  ;  at  least, 
Bob  made  no  reference  to  it.  He  had  a  fine 
family  of  boys  and  girls,  and  presented  them 
to  me  with  natural  pride. 

*'  That's  my  lot — except  Addie.  She's 
gone  to  see  some  friends ;  but  we  expect  her 
back  every  minute.  They  keep  me  alive,  I 
can  tell  you.  Miller." 

After  tea,  my  host  and  hostess  insisted  on 
taking  me  for  a  stroll  on  the  terrace.  It  was 
a  beautiful  evening,  and  I  did  not  mind  the 
cold.  As  we  were  talking  together,  I  heard 
the  rumble  of  wheels.  An  omnibus  stopped 
at  the  gate. 


97 

"  Ah,  the  'bus,"  said  Gunton  ;  "  it  runs  be- 
tween  here  and  our  market-town." 

I  hardly  heard  him  ;  for,  to  my  horror,  I 
saw,  descending  from  the  'bus  and  opening 
the  gate,  that  girl ! 

"  Send  her  away  !"  I  cried  ;  "  send  her 
away  !  On  my  honor,  Bob,  as  a  gentleman, 
I  know  nothing  about  her." 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter?" 

"  1  solemnly  assure  Mrs.  Gunton  and  your- 
self that—" 

"  What's  the  matter  with  the  man  ?  What's 
he  talking  about  ?" 

"  Why,  Bob,  that  girl — that  barefaced 
girl  !" 

"  That  girl !  Why,  that's  my  daughter 
Addie  !" 

"  Your  daughter  ?" 

The  little  minx  walked  up  to  me  with  a 
smile,  dropped  a  little  courtsey,  and  said  : 

"  I  knew,  Mr.  Miller,  that  it  wasn't  true  that 
you  would  refuse  help  to  a  really  deserving 
case.  The  others  said  you  would  ;  but  I 
thought  better  of  you." 

And  she  had  the  effrontery,  then  and  there, 
to  tell  her  parents  all  about  it ! 

I  think  parents  are  the  most  infatuated 
class  of  persons  in  vne  community.  They 
laughed,  and  Mrs.  Gunton  said,  "  How  clever 


98 

of  you,  Addie  !     You  must  forgive  her,  Mr, 
Miller.     My  dear  girls  are  so  playful !" 

Playful  I     And  she  never  returned  the  five- 
pound  note ! 


A  GUARDIAN  OF  MORALITY. 

Miss  Tabitha  Grey  had  not  reached  the 
age  of  forty-five  years  without  acquiring  an 
extensive  and  unfavorable  knowledge  of  her 
own  sex.  Men  were  wicked  ;  Miss  Grey  ad- 
mitted and  deplored  the  fact,  but  it  was  so 
much  in  the  order  of  nature  that  she  had 
almost  ceased  to  cavil  at  it.  But  that  women 
should  be  wicked  !  Here  Miss  Grey's  toler- 
ation gave  out.  And  so  many  women,  espe- 
cially young  women,  and  more  especially 
pretty  young  women,  were  wicked.  It  was 
atrocious.  Entertaining  this  general  opinion, 
Miss  Grey,  as  a  matter  of  course,  held  Mag- 
gie Lester  in  the  utmost  detestation.  The 
Waterfall  Hotel  was,  in  fact,  hardly  large 
enough  to  contain,  in  any  comfort.  Miss  Grey 
on  the  one  hand  and  on  the  other  Maggie 
Lester,  her  brother  Charles,  and  their  friend 
and  traveling  companion.  Captain  Petrie.  It 
is  true  that  the  feeling  of  discomfort  was  en- 


100 

tirely  confined  to  Miss  Grey.  The  young' 
people  were  very  civil  to  her  when  any  one 
of  them  happened  to  be  next  her  at  table- 
dlwte,  and  at  other  times  thought  nothing 
about  her;  but  Miss  Grey  endured  agonies 
enough  for  an  hotel-full  of  people.  She  shud- 
dered at  Maggie's  striped  waistcoat  and 
white  sailor's  knot  with  its  golden  pin,  at  her 
brown  boots,  at  her  love  of  long  and  hard 
rides,  at  her  not  unfrequent  slang  ;  above  all 
at  the  terms  of  hearty  and  familiar  camara- 
derie on  which  she  thought  fit  to  conduct  her 
acquaintance  with  Captain  Petrie.  The  de- 
corum of  literature  forbids  that  Miss  Grey's 
inmost  suspicions  should  be  put  in  writing  ; 
it  must  suffice  to  say  that  they  were  very  dark 
indeed — so  dark  that  all  the  other  ladies,  to 
whom  Miss  Grey  repeated  them,  could  not 
but  come  to  the  conclusion  that  there  must 
be  some  truth  in  them. 

One  morning,  after  breakfast,  Miss  Grey 
took  her  knitting  and  the  Church  Times  and 
sat  down  in  the  verandah.  A  moment  later, 
to  her  disgust,  Charlie  Lester  and  Captain 
Petrie  came  out  of  the  breakfast-room,  lit 
their  pipes,  and,  after  a  polite  "  Good  morn- 
ing," took  their  seats  a  few  yards  from  her. 
Miss  Gre}'-  sniffed  the  tobacco-tainted  air,  and 
was  about  to  rise  and   ostentatiouslv  remove 


lOI 

herself  from  the  infected  zone,  when  she 
heard  a  scrap  of  conversation  between  the 
two  young  men  which  entirely  altered  her 
determination.  She  sat  still  and  listened  with 
all  her  might. 

"  I  wonder  when  Maggie  will  be  down," 
said  Lester  ;  "  I  want  to  tell  her." 

"  Oh,  you're  too  late,"  said  Petrie  ;  "  I've 
told  her." 

"  What,  have  you  seen  her?" 

"  Yes.  I  knew  she'd  like  to  know,  so  I 
went  outside  her  door  five  minutes  ago  and 
shouted  what  we'd  heard,  and  she  came  out 
directly." 

"  Had  she  anything  on  ?"  inquired  Lester, 
in  an  interested  tone. 

"No,"  responded  Captain  Petrie;  "but 
that  made  no  difference." 

"  It  would  to  me,"  said  Lester,  with  a 
smile. 

"  And  to  me,"  said  the  captain ;  "  but  it 
didn't  to  her.  I  reminded  her  of  it,  and  she 
said  that  it  made  no  odds — she  wanted  to 
hear  all  I  knew  directly.  So  we  stood  in  the 
passage,  and — " 

Miss  Grey  had  been  gradually  becoming 
more  and  more  horrified.  She  had  been 
prepared  for  a  good  deal,  but  this  was  too 
much.     And  the  creature's  own  brother  list- 


102 

ened  to  it !  Her  knitting  fell  from  her  grasp, 
and  the  needles  jangled  on  the  tiled  floor. 
The  Captain  hastened  to  pick  them  up,  inter- 
rupting his  narrative  for  that  purpose;  but 
Miss  Grey  froze  him  with  an  awful  look,  and 
strode  into  the  house. 

Miss  Grey  was  a  woman  who  never  al- 
lowed herself  to  be  turned  from  the  path  of 
duty,  however  painful  that  path  might  be  to 
others.  She  soon  made  up  her  mind  as  to 
what  she  must  do,  and,  having  come  to  a 
resolution,  she  laid  the  whole  matter  before 
an  informal  committee  of  three  irreproach- 
able and  austere  matrons,  whom  she  selected 
from  among  her  fellow-guests.  The  imme- 
diate result  of  their  conference  was,  that 
when  Maggie  Lester,  looking  very  fresh  and 
blooming  after  her  morning  gallop,  came  in 
to  luncheon  and  took  her  place  at  the  table, 
no  fewer  than  four  elderly  ladies  put  down 
their  knives  and  forks,  rose  from  their  chairs, 
and  solemnly  stalked  out  of  the  room. 

"  Hullo  !  what's  up  ?"  said  Charlie  Lester. 

But  nobody  knew  what  was  up  ;  and,  to  all 
appearance,  Maggie  least  of  all,  for  she  cheer- 
fully began  her  lunch,  merely  remarking  to 
the  Captain,  as  though  in  continuance  of  a 
previous  conversation: 

"  It  wouldn't  have  been  so  bad  if  I'd  had 


I03 

anything — even  the  least  little  bit — on,  would 
it?" 

"  Ah,  you  ought  to  have  put  your  boots 
on,"  said  the  Captain,  with  a  smile. 

A  fifth  lady,  sitting  by,  overheard  these 
remarks,  and  when,  after  lunch,  Miss  Grey 
informed  her  of  the  startling  occurrence  oE 
the  morning,  her  testimony  completed  the 
damning  chain  of  evidence.  They  made  a 
joke  of  it !  What  could  the  suggestion  of 
boots — only  boots — be,  except  a  vulgar, 
shameless  jest  ?  The  ladies  went  in  a  body 
to  the  proprietor,  and  intimated  that  either 
they  or  the  Lester  party  must  forthwith 
leave  the  hotel.  The  proprietor  demanded 
reasons  ;  cogent ;  irrefragable  reasons  were 
supplied  by  Miss  Grey  and  the  fifth  lady — 
reasons  clothed,  of  course,  in  decorous  lan- 
guage, but  unmistakably  revealing  the  in- 
famous conduct  of  Maggie  Lester. 

"  I  assure  you,  ladies,"  exclaimed  the  pro- 
prietor, beads  of  perspiration  standing  on  his 
brow,  "  it's  the  first  time  such  a  thing  has 
ever  occurred  in  my  house." 

"  It  must  be  the  last,"  said  Miss  Grey, 
firmly. 

"  I  will  act  at  once,"  declared  the  pro- 
prietor. "  This  is  a  respectable  house,  and 
such  proceedings  cannot  be  tolerated.     Good 


104 

gracious  !     It  would  endanger  my  license  !'* 

"  And  your  soul,"  said  Miss  Grey,  sot. 
emnly. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  miss  ?"  said  the  pro- 
prietor. 

*M«^your  soul,"  repeated  Miss  Grey. 

"  Oh  yes,  to  be  sure — of  course,  my  soul, 
miss.  As  it  was,  I  had  a  bother  about  it 
last  year — my  license,  I  mean,  miss.  I'll  go 
to  Mr.  Lester  at  once." 

The  proprietor  was  a  nervous,  bashful  man, 
and  when  he  found  himself  standing  before 
the  Lesters  and  Captain  Petrie,  as  they  drank 
their  after-luncheon  coffee,  he  was  much 
embarrassed.  At  last  he  managed  to  in- 
dicate that  he  wished  to  speak  to  Mr.  Lester 
alone. 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !"  said  Charlie.  "  Go  on. 
What's  the  matter?" 

The  proprietor  nerved  himself  for  the 
effort.  After  all,  if  these  people  were  not 
ashamed  for  themselves,  why  should  he  blush 
for  them  ?  Looking  sternly  at  Charles,  he 
began  to  formulate  his  accusation.  He  had 
not  got  far  before  Maggie  gave  a  little  shriek 
of  amazement ;  and  the  Captain,  jumping  up, 
seized  him  by  the  collar,  and  exclaimed  : 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  little  rascal? 
What's  this  scandalous  nonsense  you've  got 


105 

hold  of?"  and  the  Captain  shook  his  host 
severely. 

"lam  not  to  be  bullied,  sir,"  said  the  pro- 
prietor, stoutly.  "  I  have  excellent  authority 
for  what  I  say,  and — " 

"Whose  authority?" 

The  proprietor  vouched  Miss  Grey  and  the 
fifth  lady. 

"  We  must  look  into  this,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain. 

Maggie,  who  was  blushing  severely,  but 
was  not  without  a  secret  tendency  to  con- 
vulsive laughter,  was  prevailed  upon  to 
accompany  them,  and  the  four  proceeded  to 
the  drawing-room,  where  the  Inquisition  sat 
enthroned  on  the  sofa,  Miss  Grey  presiding. 
Miss  Grey  rose  with  a  gesture  of  horror. 

"  Not  gone  yet?"  she  exclaimed. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  said  the  Captain  ;  "  we  want 
to  hear  your  story  first." 

"Have  you  no  shame?"  demanded  Miss 
Grey  of  Maggie. 

"Never  mind  that,  ma'am,"  said  the  Cap- 
tain ;  "  let's  have  the  story  first." 

Miss  Grey  cast  an  appealing  glance  at  the 
ceiling,  and  began: — "  With  my  own  ears  I 
heard  it.  Mrs.  Britson  [Mrs.  Britson  was  the 
fifth  lady]  will  confirm  what  I  say.  With 
my  own  ears  I  heard   Captain   Petrie  relate 


io6 

to  Mr.  Lester — to  this  person's  brother — 
that  he  had  had  an  interview  with  this  per- 
son when  this  person  was  entirely — "  Miss 
Grey  paused  for  a  moment,  gathered  her 
courage,  and  added  in  an  awestruck  whisper, 
*'  disrobed." 

A  shudder  ran  through  the  audience. 
The  culprits'  faces  expressed  real  or  simu- 
lated astonishment. 

"If  I  must  put  it  plainly,"  pursued  Miss 
Grey — and  at  this  several  ladies  opened  their 
fans  and  held  them  before  their  faces — 
"Captain  Petrie  said  that  Miss  Lester — that 
person — had  nothing  on,  and  that  when  he 
reminded  her  of  it  she  stated  that  the  cir- 
cumstance was  immaterial.  Subsequently, 
at  luncheon,  the  young  woman  herself  ad- 
mitted the  fact  in  the  hearing  of  Mrs.  Britson. 
If  that  is  not  enough — " 

It  apparently  was  enough,  for  Charlie 
Lester  threw  himself  into  an  armchair 
with  a  wild  shriek  of  laughter.  Maggie's 
slight  figure  shook  convulsively  as  she  hid 
her  face  in  her  handkerchief,  and  Captain 
Petrie,  after  a  moment's  blank  amazement, 
cried  out  : 

"By  Jove!  I've  got -it.  Oh!  this  beats 
anything !"  And  he  joined  in  virith  a  loud 
gufifaw. 


I07 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  treat  such  a — an 
abominable — ''  began  Miss  Grey,  au- 
sterely. 

"  Oh  !  stop  ;  for  heaven's  sake  stop  !  "  ex- 
claimed the  Captain  ;  "you'll  be  the  death  of 
me,  you  reall}'^  will!" 

Silence  followed  for  a  moment,  and  the 
Captain,  conquering  his  mirth,  went  on  :  "  I 
don't  know  if  any  of  you  ladies  go  in  for 
horse-racing.  Probably  not  ;  I'm  sure  Miss 
Grey  doesn't.  Well,  this  morning  I  heard 
that  a  horse  of  mine  which  is  running  in  a 
race  to-day  had  done  an  exceptionally  and 
quite  unexpectedly  good  trial — I  mean,  had 
proved  a  far  faster  runner  than  we  had  sup- 
posed. In  fact,  there  was  little  doubt  that 
he  would  win  the  race.  Sometimes,  ladies, 
I  am  wicked  enough  to  bet.  Occasionally 
Charlie  Lester  is  equally  wicked.  Now  and 
then  Miss  Lester  yields  to  that  vice.  Well, 
as  you  know,  we  are  far  from  a  telegraph 
here  ;  and  we  were  much  annoyed,  Charlie 
and  I,  that  we  could  not  take  advantage  of 
our  fresh  information  to  bet  on  the  horse — to 
put  something  on,  as  we  say.  Miss  Lester 
regretted  also,  when  I  told  her  the  news,  that 
she  had  nothing  on — the  horse.  Do  you  be- 
gin to  understand,  ladies  ?" 

The  ladies  glanced  at  one  another  in  some 


io8 


confusion.  Miss  Grey  looked  angry  and  sus- 
picious. 

"  And  the  boots?"  she  said. 

"  To  put  your  boots  on  a  horse,"  explained 
the  Captain,  politely,  "  is  a  slang  expression 
for  betting  your  entire  available  fortune  on 
his  success.  Another  expression  is  to  put 
your  shirt — " 

"  Sir  !"  said  Miss  Grey. 

But  Miss  Grey's  sway  was  ended.  Maggie 
burst  into  a  fresh  fit  of  laughter,  and,  after  a 
moment's  pause,  the  whole  company  followed 
suit.  Miss  Grey  turned  and  left  the  room. 
The  next  day  she  left  the  hotel ;  she  could  not 
face  her  victorious  foes.  Captain  Petrie 
insisted  on  handing  her  into  the  omnibus,  say- 
ing as  he  did  so,  "  Be  easy,  my  dear  madam. 
In  future  it  shall  be  my  care  to  see  that  Miss 
Lester  has  something  on." 


"  When  Maggie  Lester  came  in  after  lier  nioriiiiig  gallop, 
no  less  than  four  elderly  ladies  put  down  their  knives 
and  forks." 


NOT   A   BAD    DEAL. 

The  little  volume  of  verses  entitled,  *'  To 
Lalage,"  made  quite  a  stir  in  the  literary 
vrorld.  One  critic  of  note  said  that  it  was 
instinct  with  classic  grace  ;  another  that  it 
was  informed  b}'  the  true  spirit  of  Hellas ; 
a  third  that  it  had  a  whiff  of  Hymettus;  a 
fourth  that  it  was  hardly  suitable  for  family 
reading;  and  on  the  strength  of  all  this  laud- 
ation, "  To  Lalage  "  was  a  success,  and  several 
copies  were  bond  fide  sold  to  complete  stran- 
gers. Imagine,  then,  the  bitterness  of  heart 
with  which  Adrian  Pottles,  the  gifted  author, 
saw  himself  compelled  to  maintain  strict 
anonymity,  and  to  conceal  from  a  world 
thirsting  to  know  him  that  he  was  the  "  A.  P." 
whose  initials  appeared  in  Old  English  letters 
on  the  title-page.  Yet  he  did  not  hesitate  ; 
for  he  knew  that  if  his  uncle,  Mr.  Thomas 
Pottleg,  of  Clapham  Common,  discovered  that 
he  wrote  not  only  verses,  which  was  bad,  but 

[109] 


no 


amatory  verses,  which  was  atrocious,  hijt 
means  of  present  livelihood  and  prospects  of 
future  affluence  would  vanish  into  thin  air. 
For  Mr.  Pottles  was  a  man  of  strict  views; 
and,  whether  one  regarded  this  world  or  the 
next,  there  could  be  no  question  that  a  bank 
clerk  of  Evangelical  connections  committed 
a  grave  fault  in  writing  love  poems.  So 
poor  Adrian  had  to  make  up  his  mind  to  re- 
main unknown,  and  to  hold  his  tongue  even 
when  he  heard  that  another  man  had  been 
claiming  the  authorship  of  '*  To  Lalage." 
Luckily,  perhaps,  he  failed  to  find  out  who 
this  miscreant  was,  or  probably  his  indigna- 
tion would  have  overcome  his  prudence,  and 
he  would  at  any  cost  have  claimed  his  own. 

The  secret  was  well  kept:  and  Adrian 
received  the  usual  check  at  Christmas  time, 
and  with  it  the  usual  invitation  to  spend  the 
festive  season  with  his  uncle,  and  to  bring 
with  him  his  young  friend  Peter  Allison,  to 
whom  old  Mr.  Pottles  had  taken  a  great 
fancy.  Peter  was  a  man  of  many  engage- 
ments, but  sought  after  as  he  was  and  pro- 
claimed himself  to  be,  he  remembered  the 
good  cheer  at  Mr.  Pottles's,  and  accepted  the 
invitation.  They  went  down  together ; 
Adrian  bewailing  his  hard  fortune  and  de- 
nouncing the  impostor;  Peter  warmly  sym- 


Ill 


pathizing,  but  counseling  continued  silence 
and  prudence. 

"  Ah,  if  I  could  only  claim  it !"  cried 
Adrian,  opening  his  Gladstone  bag  and  gaz- 
ing fondly  at  half  a  dozen  neat,  clean  copies  of 
"  To  Lalage."  "  I  should  be  the  lion  of  the 
season,  Peter." 

Peter  smiled  and  shook  his  head.  "  A  for- 
tune is  better  than  fame,  Adrian,"  said  he. 

For  a  day  or  two  all  went  well  at  Clapham. 
The  old  gentleman  was  in  the  best  of  tempers, 
and  the  two  young  men  did  their  best  to  keep 
him  in  it,  endorsing  all  his  views  as  to  the  lax 
morality  and  disgraceful  tone  which  pervaded 
modern  literature  and  modern  society  ;  and 
when  they  had  done  their  duty  in  this  way 
the}'  rewarded  themselves  by  going  in  next 
door  and  having  tea  with  Dora  Chatterton,  a 
young  lady  whom  they  both  thought  charm- 
ing. Indeed,  Adrian  thought  her  so  charming 
that,  after  a  short  acquaintance,  he  sent  her  a 
copy  of  "  To  Lalage  " — with  the  author's  kind 
regards.  Now,  Miss  Dora  Chatterton  adored 
genius.  She  had  thought  both  Adrian  and 
Peter  very  pleasant  young  men  ;  she  had  per- 
ceived that  they  both  thought  her  a  very 
pleasant  young  woman ;  and  she  had  been 
rather  puzzled  to  know  which  of  them  she 
would,  in  a  certain  event,  make  up  her  mind 


112 

to  prefer.  "  To  Lalage  "  settled  the  question. 
It  was  the  gifted  author,  A.  P., who  deserved 
her  love  ;  and  A.  P.  obviously  stood,  not  for 
Peter  Allison,  but  for  Adrian  Pottles. 

The  very  next  morning  she  called  early  at 
Mr.  Pottles's.  She  found  him  alone;  the 
boys,  he  explained,  had  gone  for  a  walk. 
Dora  was  disappointed  ;  but  failing  the 
author  himself,  she  was  content  to  pour  her 
praises  into  the  ears  of  an  appreciative  and 
proud  uncle.  She  did  so,  expressing  immense 
admiration  for  Adrian's  modesty  in  not  hav- 
ing told  Mr.  Pottles  of  his  achievement. 

"  Humph  !"  said  Mr.  Pottles.  "  Let  me  see 
these — er — things." 

The  effect  of  "  To  Lalage  "  on  Mr.  Pottles 
was  surprising,  and  particularly  so  to  Dora. 
In  less  than  ten  minutes  she  found  herself 
being  shown  the  door,  and  entrusted  with  a 
letter  to  her  mother  in  which  Mr.  Pottles 
stated  that  she  had  been  reading  wicked 
books,  and  ought,  in  his  opinion,  to  be  sent  to 
her  own  room  for  an  indefinite  period. 

"  And  I  shall  know  if  you  don't  give  it  her," 
said  Mr.  Pottles,  viciousl}'. 

Thus  it  happened  that  Adrian  and  Peter,  as 
they  were  returning,  met  poor  Dora  on  the 
steps  with  this  horrid  note  in  one  hand  and 
her   pocket-handkerchief   in    the    other — for 


113 

Mrs.  Chatterton  shared  Mr.  Pottles's  views, 
and  Dora  did  not  enjoy  having  to  deliver  the 
note.  They  were  just  hastening  up  to  speak 
to  her,  when  Mr.  Pottles  himself  appeared  on 
the  steps,  holding  out  "  To  Lalage  "  in  his 
hand.     Adrian  grasped  the  situation. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Peter,"  he  whispered, 
"  say  you  wrote  the  beastly  thing ;  I'm 
ruined  if  you  don't." 

"  Eh?     But  he'll  kick  me  out." 

"  I'll  stand  a  pony." 

"  Two''  said  Peter,  firmly. 

"  Well,  two  ;  but  be  quick." 

Then  Peter  spoke  up  like  a  man,  and  ac- 
cepted the  blame  of  "  To  Lalage." 

"  But  your  initials  aren't  A.  P."  objected 
Mr.  Pottles. 

"To  avoid  suspicion,  I  reversed  the  order  ; 
mine  are  P.  A." 

"James,"  said  Mr.  Pottles  to  the  footman, 
"  pack  Mr.  Allison's  bag." 

But  Dora  gave  Peter  the  kindest  and  most 
admiring  glance  as  she  murmured  softly  to 
Adrian,  "  They're  lovely !  Oh,  don't  you 
wish  you  could  write  verses,  Mr.  Pottles?" 

Adrian  started.  He  had  not  bargained 
for  this;  but  Peter  had  overheard  and  in- 
terposed : 

"  1   am    more    than  consoled  by  your  ap- 


114 

proval,  Miss  Chatterton."  Mr.  Pottles  called 
to  Adrian  and  he  had  to  go  in,  leaving  Dora 
and  Peter  in  close  conversation,  and  to  as- 
sure his  uncle  solemnly  that  he  had  been 
entirely  disappointed  and  deceived  in  Peter, 
and,  worse  still,  in  Dora,  and  that  he  never 
wished  to  see  either  of  them  again.  Mr. 
Pottles  shook  him  by  the  hand  and  forgave 
him. 

Adrian  passed  a  wretched  week.  In  sev- 
eral newspapers  he  saw  it  openly  stated  that 
Peter  now  admitted  he  was  the  author  of 
"To  Lalage."  Peter  wrote  that  the  fifty 
pounds  were  most  convenient,  and  that  he 
had  had  a  most  charming  letter  from  Dora, 
and  that  all  the  literary  world  was  paying 
him  most  flattering  attentions.  Adrian 
ground  his  teeth,  but  he  had  to  write  back, 
thanking  Peter  for  all  his  kindness. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Pottles  grew  restless. 
Every  paper  he  took  up  was  full  of  the 
praises  of  "  To  Lalage."  The  author  was 
becoming  famous,  and  Mr.  Pottles  began  to 
doubt  whether  he  had  done  well  to  drive  him 
forth  with  contumely. 

"  Adrian,"  he  said,  suddenly,  one  morning, 
"  I  don't  know  that  I  did  justice  to  3^oung 
Allison.  I  shall  have  another  look  at  that 
book.     I  shall  order  it  at  Smith's." 


115 

"  I — I  happen  to  have  a  copy,"  said  Adrian, 
timidly. 

"  Get  it,"  said  Mr.  Pottles.  Mr.  Pottles 
read  it — first  with  a  deep  frown,  then  with  a 
judicial  air,  then  with  a  smile,  lastly  with  a 
chuckle. 

"  Ask  him  to  dinner,"  he  said.  Oh,  and 
Adrian,  we'll  have  the  Chattertons.  I  wish 
you  could  do  something  to  get  your  name  up, 
my  boy. 

"You  like  it,  uncle  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  like  the  manly  way  he  owned 
to  it.  If  he  had  prevaricated  about  it,  I'd 
never  have  forgiven  him." 

After  this  Adrian  did  not  dare  to  confess. 
It  was  too  bad.  Here  were  both  his  Uncle 
and  Dora  admiring  Peter  for  his  poems,  and 
crediting  Peter  with  candor  and  courage. 
He  was  to  lose  both  fame  and  Doxa  !  It  was 
certainly  too  much.  A  sudden  thought 
struck  him.  He  went  to  town,  called  on 
Peter,  and,  as  the  police  reports  say,  "  made 
a  communication"  to  him. 

"  It  makes  me  look  a  scoundrel,"  objected 
Peter. 

"  Two  hundred— at  six  months,"  suggested 
Adrian. 

"And  she  is  a  nice  girl —  No,  I'm 
dashed —  " 


ii6 


"  A  monkey  at  three  I    cried  Adrian. 

"  Done!"  said  Peter. 

It  was  a  sad  tale  of  depravity  on  one  side, 
and  of  self-sacrificing  friendship  on  the  other, 
that  Mr.  Pottles  and  DoraChatterton  listened 
to  that  evening. 

"  He  had  made,  said  Adrian,  sadly,  "  a  de- 
liberate attempt  to  rob  me  of  my  fame  before 
and  he  repeated  it.  And  yet,  uncle,  an  old 
friend — boyhood's  companion — how  could  I 
betray  him  !  It  was  weak,  but  I  could  not. 
I  stood  by,  and  let  him  deceive  you." 

"  You're  a  noble  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Pottles^ 
in  tones  of  emotion. 

"  Indeed,  yes,"  said  Dora,  with  an  adoring 
glance. 

"There,  let  us  say  no  more  about  it," 
pursued  Adrian,  magnanimously.  "  I  have 
my  reward,"  and  he  returned  Dora's  glance 
behind  Mr.  Pottles's  broad  back. 

The  next  time  he  met  Peter,  he  said,  "  I 
am  really  immensely  indebted  to  you,  old 
fellow.  My  uncle  has  come  down  handsome, 
and  if  the  monkey  now  would  be  oonv " 

"  By  Gad,  yes  !"  said  Peter.  He  took  it  in 
crisp  notes,  and  carefully  pocketed  them. 

"  And  is  Miss  Dora  kind  ?"  he  asked. 

"  She's  an  angel." 

"  And  you  are  generally  prosperous?" 


117 


f* 


"  Thanks  to  you,  my  dear,  old  friend. 

"  Then,"  said  Peter,  producing-  a  piece  of 
paper  from  his  pocket,  "you  might  persuade 
your  publishers  to  withdraw  this  beastly 
thing,"  It  was  a  writ,  and  it  claimed  an 
injunction  to  restrain  Peter  from  claiming 
the  authorship  of  "  To  Lalage." 

"  Then  you've  been  publicly  claiming  it?" 

"  I  had  to  keep  up  the  illusion,  Adrian. 
Do  me  justice." 

"But,"  said  Adrian,  "how,  Peter — how 
does  it  happen  that  the  writ  is  dated  the  day 
before  we  went  to  Clapham?" 

He  paused.  Peter  grinned  uneasily.  A 
light  broke  in  on  Adrian. 

"  Why,"  he  exclaimed,  "you're  the  villain 
who—  " 

"Exactly.  Wonderfully  provident  of  me, 
wasn't  it?     What,  you're  not  going?" 

"  Never  let  me  see  your  face  again,"  said 
Adrian.     "  I  have  done  with  you." 

He  rushed  out.  Peter  whistled  gently, 
and  said  to  himself,  "Not  a  bad  deal.  He 
must  stop  the  action,  or  the  old  man  will 
twig." 

Then  he  whistled  again,  and  added,  "  Glad 
I  got  it  in  notes.  He'd  have  stopped  a 
check." 


ii8 


A  third  time  he  whistled,  and  chuckled 
and  said,  **  Now,  I  wonder  if  old  Adrian'll 
make  five  hundred  and  fifty  out  of  it !  Not 
a  bad  deal,  Peter,  my  boy." 


MIDDLETON'S   MODEL. 

MiDDLETON  was  doing  very  well;  every- 
body admitted  that — some  patronizingly, 
others  enviously.  And  yet  Middleton  aimed 
high.  He  eschewed  pot-boilers,  and  devoted 
himself  to  important  subject  pictures,  often 
of  an  allegorical  description.  Nevertheless, 
his  works  sold,  and  that  so  well  that  Middle- 
ton  thought  himself  justified  in  taking  a  wife. 
Here,  again,  good  fortune  attended  him. 
Miss  Angela  Dove  was  fair  to  see,  possessed 
of  a  nice  little  income,  and,  finally,  a  lady  of 
taste,  for  she  accepted  Middleton's  addresses. 
Decidedly  a  lucky  fellow  all  round  was  Mid- 
dleton. But,  in  spite  of  all  his  luck,  his  face 
was  clouded  with  care  as  he  sat  in  his  studio 
one  summer  evening.  Three  months  before 
he  had  been  the  recipient  of  a  most  flattering 
commission  from  that  wealthy  and  esteemed 
connoisseur  the  Earl  of  Moneyton.  The  Earl 
desired  two  panels  for  his  hall.     "  I  want," 

l"9] 


120 


he  wrote,  "  two  full-length  female  figures — 
the  one  representing  Heavenly  Love,  the 
other  Earthly  Love.  Not  a  very  new  subject, 
you  will  say  ;  but  I  have  a  fancy  for  it,  and  I 
can  rely  on  your  talent  to  impart  freshness 
even  to  a  well-worn  theme." 

Of  course  there  was  no  difficulty  about 
Heavenly  Love.  Angela  filled  the  bill  (the 
expression  was  Middleton's  own)  to  a  nicety. 
Her  pretty  golden  hair,  her  sweet  smile,  her 
candid  blue  eyes,  were  exactly  what  was 
wanted.  Middleton  clapped  on  a  pair  of 
wings,  and  felt  that  he  had  done  his  duty. 
But  when  he  came  to  Earthly  Love  the  path 
was  not  so  smooth.  The  Earl  demanded  the 
acme  of  physical  beauty,  and  that  was  rather 
hard  to  find.  Middleton  tried  all  the  models 
in  vain  ;  he  frequented  the  theatres  and 
music-halls  to  no  purpose  ;  he  tried  to  com- 
bine all  the  beauties  of  his  acquaintance  in 
one  harmonious  whole,  but  they  did  not  make 
what  tea-dealers  call  a  "  nice  blend."  Then  he 
tried  to  evolve  Earthly  Love  out  of  his  own 
consciousness,  but  he  could  get  nothing  there 
but  Angela  again  ;  and  although  he  did  vio- 
lence to  his  feelings  by  giving  her  black  hair 
aiid  an  evil  cast  in  her  eye,  he  knew  that, 
even  thus  transformed  she  would  not  satisfy 
the    Earl.     Middleton    was    in   despair;    his 


121 


reputation    was   at   stake.     The    thought   of 
Angela  could  not  console  him. 

"  I'd  give  my  soul  for  a  model  !"  cried  he, 
flinging  aside  his  pencil  in  despair.  * 

At  this  moment  he  heard  a  knock  at  the 
door.  He  existed  on  the  charwoman  sys- 
tem, and  after  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  had 
to  open  his  own  door.  A  lady  stood  outside, 
and  a  neat  brougham  was  vanishing  round 
the  corner.  Even  in  the  darkness  Middleton 
was  struck  by  the  grace  and  dignity  of  his 
visitor's  figure. 

"  Mr.  Middleton's,  is  it  not?"  she  asked,  in 
a  very  sweet  voice. 

Middleton  bowed.  It  was  late  for  a  call, 
but  if  the  lady  ignored  that  fact,  he  could  not 
remind  her  of  it.  Fortunately  there  was  no 
chance  of  Angela  coming  at  such  an  hour. 
He  led  the  way  to  his  studio. 

"  May  I  ask,"  he  began,  "  to  what  I  am  in- 
debted  for  this  honor?" 

"  I  see  you  like  coming  to  business  di- 
rectly," she  answered,  her  neatly  gloved  hands 
busy  unpinning  her  veil.  She  seemed  to  find 
the  task  a  little  difficult. 

'•  You  see,  it's  rather  late,"  said  Middleton. 

"  Not  at  all.  I  am  only  just  up.  Well, 
then,  to  business.  I  hear  you  want  a  model 
for  an  Earthly  Love." 


122 


"  Exactly.     May  I  ask  if  you—  ?" 

"If  I  am  a  model?  Oh,  now  and  then — 
not  habitually." 

"  You  know  my  requirements  are  some* 
what  hard  to  fulfill  ?" 

"  I  can  fulfill  them,"  and  she  raised  her 
veil. 

She  certainly  could.  She  realized  his  wild- 
est dreams,  the  wildest  dreams  of  poets  and 
painters  since  the  world  began.  Middleton 
stood  half-stupefied  before  her. 

"Well,  shall  I  do?"  she  asked,  turning  her 
smile  on  him.  . 

Middleton  felt  as  if  it  were  a  battery  of 
guns,  as  he  answered  that  he  would  be  the 
happiest  painter  in  the  world  if  she  would 
honor  him. 

"  Head  only,  of  course,"  she  continued. 

"  Of  course,"  said  he,  hastily  ;  "  unless, 
that  is,  you  will  give  me  hands  and  arms 
too." 

"  I  think  not.  My  hands  are  not  so  good." 
And  she  glanced  at  her  kid  gauntlets  with  a 
smile. 

"And — er — as  to  terms?"  he  stammered. 

"  Oh,  the  usual  terms,"  she  answered 
briskly. 

Middleton  hinted  at  pre-payment. 

"  I'm  not  allowed  to  take  that,"  she  said 


123 

"  Come,  I  will  ask  for  what  I  want   when  the 
time  comes.     You  won't  refuse  me  ?" 

"It's  a  little  vague,"  he  said,  with  an  un- 
easy laugh. 

"  Oil,  I  can  go  awa3\"  And  she  turned  to- 
ward the  door. 

"  Whatever  3'ou  like,"  he  cried  hastily. 

"  Ah,  that's  better.  I  shall  not  take  any- 
thing of  great  value. 

She  gave  him  her  hand.  He  ventured  on 
a  slight  pressure.  Tiie  lady  did  not  seem  to 
notice  it,  and  her  hand  lay  quite  motionless 
in  his.^ 

"  To-morrow,  then?"  he  said. 

"  Yes.  I  won't  trouble  you  to  call  a  cab. 
I  shall  walk." 

"  Have  you  far  to  go  ?" 

"Oh,  some  little  way;  but  it's  an  easy- 
road." 

"  Can't  I  escort  you  ?" 

"  Not  to-night.  Some  da}^  I  hope  " — and 
she  stepped  into  the  street  and  disappeared 
round  the  corner. 

Punctually  the  next  day  she  reappeared. 
Apart  from  her  incomparable  beauty — and 
every  time  she  came,  Middleton  was  more 
convinced  that  it  was  incomparable — she  was 
a  charming  companion.     She  was  very  well 


124 

read,  and  her  knowledge  of  the  world  was 
wonderful. 

"I  wish  it  wasn't  rude  to  ask  your  age !" 
he  exclaimed  one  day. 

"  Ah,  I  am  older  than  I  look.  My  work 
keeps  me  young." 

"  Are  you  very  busy,  then?" 

"  I  am  always  busy.  But  I  don't  grudge 
the  time  I  give  to  you.  No,  don't  thank  me. 
I  am  to  be  paid,  you  know,"  And  she 
laughed  merrily.  If  there  were  a  flaw  in  her, 
it  was  her  laugh.  Middleton  thought  it 
rather  a  cruel  laugh. 

"Do  you  know,"  he  resumed,  "you  have 
never  told  me  your  name  yet." 

"  I  am  here  incognita." 

"  You  will  tell  me  some  day ." 

**  Yes,  you  shall  know  some  day." 

"  Before  we  part  forever  ?" 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  not  part — forever." 

Middleton  said  he  hoped  not ;  but  what 
would  Angela  say  ? 

"  My  name  is  not  so  pretty  a  one  as  youP 
fiancee  s^'  the  lady  continued. 

"  How  do  you  know  I  am  engaged  ?" 

"  I  always  know  that  sort  of  thing.  It's  so 
useful.     Angela  Dove,  isn't  it?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  hope  you  like  it  ?" 


125 

"  To  be  candid,  not  very  much.  It  hap- 
pens to  have  unpleasant  associations." 

It  was  fortunate  that  Angela  was  staying' 
out  of  town.  Middleton  felt  that  the  two 
ladies  would  not  have  got  on  well  together  ; 
and —  He  checked  himself  in  shame  ;  for 
his  thought  had  been  that  not  even  for  Angela 
could  he  send  the  stranger  away.  Middleton 
struggled  against  the  treacherous  passion 
that  grew  upon  him  ;  but  he  struggled  in  vain. 
He  was  guilty  of  postponing  the  finishing  of 
his  panel  as  long  as  he  could.  At  last  the 
lady  grew  impatient. 

"  I  shall  not  come  after  to-day,"  she  an- 
nounced.    "  You  can  finish  it  to-day." 

"  Oh,  hardly  !"  he  protested. 

"  ril  stay  late  ;  but  I  can't  come  again." 

Middleton  worked  hard,  and  by  evening 
his  panel  was  finished. 

"  A  thousand  thanks,"  he  said.  "  And  now 
you'll  have  something  to  eat,  won't  you  ?" 

She  agreed,  and  they  sat  down  to  a  merry 
meal.  The  lady  surpassed  herself  in  bril- 
liancy, and  her  mad  gaiety  infected  Middle- 
ton.  Forgetful  of  his  honor  and  allegiance, 
he  leant  over  to  toast  his  guest  with  a  pas- 
sionate gaze  in  his  eyes.  Insensibly  the 
evening  sped  away ;  suddenly  the  clock 
struck  twelve. 


"  I  am  goinf^  now,"  she  said. 

"Ah,  jou  won't  leave  me  !"  cried  Middle- 
ton. 

"  For  the  moment." 

"  But  when  shall  I  see  you  again?" 

"  As  soon  as  you  like,  but  not  later  than  you 
must." 

"  You  are  charminc^ly  mysterious.  Tell  me 
where  you  are  going?" 

*'  To  my  home." 

"  If  you  won't  come  to  me,  I  shall  come  to 
you,"  he  insisted. 

"  Yes,  you  will  come  to  me,"  she  answered, 
smiling. 

"  And  we  shall  be  together  ?" 

"  Yes." 

*'  As  h)ng  as  ever  I  like?" 

"  Yes — longer." 

"  Impossible  !  Eternity  would  not  be  too 
long." 

"  JVous  verrons"  said  she,  with  a  laugh. 

"  At  least  you  will  write  ?  You'll  send  me 
your  picture  ?" 

"  I  never  write,  and  you  have  my  pic- 
ture." 

"  And  another  in  my  heart,"  he  cried, 
hotly. 

"  I  have  tried  to  put  it  there." 

"  But  give  me  some  token — anything — a 
ribbon — a  e^love — anvrhinp-." 


127 

"  Well,  let  it  be  a  glove.  As  I  go  I  will 
give  you  a  glove." 

She  rose  from  her  chair  and  rested  her 
right  hand  on  the  table. 

"  Till  we  meet  again  !"  she  said. 

"  I  am  yours  for  ever  !"  he  cried,  seizing  her 
hand. 

"  True  !  true  !"  she  answered,  triumphantl}'. 
**  You  are  mine  for  ever  !"  and  with  a  sudden 
movement  she  drew  her  arm  away  from  him, 
and  left  on  the  table — her  glove,  was  it,  or 
her  hand  ? 

It  seemed  her  very  hand  ;  and  as  Middleton 
looked  up  he  had  a  vision  of  a  blood-red  claw 
shaken  in  his  face,  and  devilish  laughter 
rattled  in  his  ears.  The  lady  was  gone,  and 
Middleton  fell  full  length  on  his  studio 
floor. 

Middleton  is  a  ver}'  devoted  husband  to 
Anpfela  Dove.  When  he  is  well  and  cheer, 
ful,  he  blames  himself  for  having  made  love 
to  a  model,  and  laughs  at  himself  for  having 
been  fool  enough  to  fancy — well,  all  sorts  of 
rubbish.  But  when  he  is  out  of  sorts  he  does 
not  like  to  be  complimented  on  his  figure  of 
Earthly  Love,  and  he  gives  a  shudder  if  he 
happens  to  come  across  an  article  which  lies 
hidden  in  his  cupboard — a  perfect  model  of 
the  human  hand  covered  with  black  kid  :  the 


123 

model  is  hollow,  and  there  is  a  curious  black 
mark  inside  it. 

And  the  Earl  ?  The  Earl  was  delighted  with 
the  panel. 

"  Was  she  a  professional  model  ?"  he  asked. 

"  She  made  it  a  matter  of  business  with 
me,"  said  Middleton,  uneasily.  It  was  one  of 
his  bad  days. 

"  I  must  know  that  girl,"  continued  the 
Earl,  with  a  cunning  look  in  his  eye. 

"  I  expect  you  will  some  day." 

"  What's  her  name?" 

*'  I  don't  know.     She  didn't  tell  me." 

"  Didn't  she  sign  anything  when  you  paid 
her?" 

"  I  haven't  paid  her  yet." 

*'  But  you're  going  to?" 

"  I — I  suppose  so,"  answered  Middleton. 

"Well,  you'll  find  out  who  she  is  then. 
And,  I  sa}',  Middleton,  just  let  me  know." 

"  I  will  if  I  can — unless  you've  found  it  out 
before." 

The  Earl  took  up  his  hat  with  a  sigh. 

"A  glorious  creature!"  he  said.  "I  hope 
I  shall  see  her  some  time." 

"  I  think  it's  very  likely,  my  lord,"  said 
Middleton. 

"  Have  you  any  notion  where  she  comes 
from.?" 


129 

Middleton  compromised.  He  said  he 
understood  that  the  lady  was  from  Monte 
Carlo. 


MY  ASTRAL  BODY. 

"There's  no  doubt  at  all  about  it,"  said 
the  Rajah,  relighting  his  cigar.  It's  per- 
fectly easy,  if  you  know  how  to  do  it.  The 
scepticism  of  the  West  is  nothing  less  than 
disgusting." 

The  Rajah  had  come  to  Oxford  to  complete 
his  education  and  endue  himself  with  the 
culture  of  Europe  ;  and  he  sat  in  my  rooms, 
in  a  frock-coat  of  perfect  cut  (he  always  wore 
a  frock-coat),  smoking  one  of  my  weeds  and 
drinking  a  whiskey-and-soda.  The  Rajah 
took  to  European  culture  with  avidity,  and  I 
have  very  little  doubt  that  he  learnt  many 
new  things  with  which  it  might  or  might  not 
be  expedient  to  acquaint  his  fellow-country- 
men  and  subjects  when  he  returned  to  India. 
But  all  the  intellectual  interests  of  Oxford 
were  not  strong  enough  to  wean  him  from  his 
love  for  the  ancient  lore  of  his  own  country, 
and  he  was  always  ready  to  expound  the 
hidden  wisdom  of  the  East  to  any  inquiring 
[130] 


131 

spirit.  As  soon  as  I  found  this  out,  I  culti- 
vated liis  acquaintance  sedulously  ;  for,  in 
common  with  all  intelligent  men  of  the  pres- 
ent day,  I  took  a  keen  interest  in  that  strange 
learning  which  seemed  to  give  its  possessors 
such  extraordinary  powers. 

*'  Can  you  do  it  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  should  hope  so,"  said  the  Rajah,  con- 
temptuously. "  If  I  couldn't  do  that,  I'd  turn 
Mahommedan." 

"  I  wish  you'd  teach  me." 

The  Rajah  took  in  a  deep  puff  of  smoke. 
"You're  sure  you  could  manage  it?"  he 
asked. 

'*  I  beg  )'our  pardon  ?" 

"  Well,  of  course,  like  an3'thing  else,  an 
astral  body  must  be  treated  with  tact,  or  it 
gets  out  of  hand." 

"Does  it?" 

"Why,  yes;  you  must  be  firm  and  yet 
kind.  Don't  let  it  take  liberties,  or  you 
don't  know  where  it  will  land  you.  I  rather 
doubt  if  I  ought  to  show  you." 

I  implored  him  to  do  so.  I  was  young, 
rash,  self-confident,  and  I  thought  I  could 
manage  an  astral  body  as  easily  as  I  did  the 
Dean. 

"  Don't  blame  me  if  you  find  it  too  much 
for  you,  that's  all,"  said  the  Rajah.     "  And  of 


132 

course   you    must    promise   not   to  tell   any 
one." 

"  Oh,  must  1  ?" 

"  Yes,  you  must ;  because  it's  quite  irrej^^u- 
lar  in  me  to  show  you  like  this.  You  ought, 
by  rights,  you  know,  to  go  to  Thibet  for  seven 
years." 

"  That  would  be  rather  a  bore." 

'*  Beastly,"  said  the  Rajah  ;  "  but  of  course 
they  insist  on  it,  because  they  get  the 
fees." 

He  swore  me  to  secrecy  by  all  manner  of 
oaths,  and  lastly  on  my  word  as  a  gentleman  ; 
and  then  he  showed  me.  I  practised  all  that 
evening,  and  was  tolerably  proficient  by  the 
time  the  Rajah  knocked  out  his  last  pipe  and 
went  off  to  bed.  I  must  not  tell  how  it  is 
done,  as  I  promised  not  to  ;  besides,  if  any 
one  reads  this  narrative  through,  he  will 
never  want  to  know. 

At  first  it  was  very  convenient.  I  always 
used  to  project  it  to  chapel  instead  of  going 
myself.  It  did  capitally  there,  because  it  had 
onl}'-  to  behave  itself  and  hold  its  tongue. 
At  lectures  it  was  a  failure  ;  it  was  such  an 
inattentive  beggar  that  its  notes  were  worth 
nothing.  And  it  was  no  sort  of  use  in  the 
Torpid  ;  I  was  told  that  I  should  be  turned 
out  if  I  went  on  "  sugaring  "  like  that — there's 


133 

no  pluck  or  endurance  in  these  Orientals. 
On  the  whole,  however,  I  was  very  well  satis- 
fied with  it,  and  came  to  rely  upon  it  more 
and  more  for  all  the  unpleasant  duties  of  life. 

"  Well,  how  do  you  like  it?"  asked  the 
Rajah  one  day  in  Quad. 

"  M)'  dear  fellow,  it's  splendid,"  I  answered. 
"  It's  up  in  town,  being  measured  for  trousers, 
now.  You  can't  think  how  much  trouble  it 
saves." 

The  Rajah  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"Be  moderate,"  he  said.  "You  mustn't 
use  it  too  much,  or  it'll  presume  on  it." 

"Will  it?     What  will  it  do?" 

"  Why,  if  it's  always  being  projected,  it's 
as  likely  as  not  it'll  learn  the  trick  of  it,  and 
take  to  projecting  itself.  Then  you'll  be  left 
in  the  lurch." 

"What  shall  I  do  then?" 

"  I  don't  see  what  you  can  do,"  said  the 
Rajah,  scratching  his  head.  "  Of  course,  I 
should  merely  report  it  at  headquarters  ;  but 
you  can't,  because  you've  no  business  with  it 
at  all." 

"  Well,  I  shan't  grudge  it  a  holiday  now 
and  then,"  I  said  magnanimously. 

The  Rajah  was  right.  It  did  begin  to 
take  French  leave.  Several  times  when  I 
wanted  it  I  found   it  had,  without  a  word  of 


134 

apolog'y,  projected  itself  off  to  Iffley  or  some- 
where, and  was  not  available.  I  spoke  very 
severely  to  it.  It  said  nothing,  but  listened 
with  an  unpleasant  sort  of  smile.  "  We  all 
have  our  duties,"  I  remarked,  "and  yours  is 
to  be  here  " — and  I  pointed  to  my  chest — • 
"  when  you  are  wanted.  You're  as  bad  as  a 
scout." 

*'  I  ought  to  have  a  little  relaxation,"  it 
answered,  sulkily. 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  in  connec- 
tion with  you.  Isn't  it  enough  for  you  to 
meditate  in  four  dimensions  when  you're  not 
at  work  ?     That  would  satisfy  most  people." 

"  It's  all  very  well  in  Thibet,"  it  grumbled  ; 
*'  but  a  fellow  doesn't  come  to  Oxford  to  do 
that." 

"  One  would  think  you  had  nothing  to  do 
with  me.  You  seem  to  forget  that  you  are 
simply  a  projection  of  mine." 

We  had  some  high  words  and  parted — I 
mean,  united — in  very  bad  temper  with  one 
another.  It  was  in  the  middle  of  a  most 
impertinent  and  positively  threatening 
speech,  when  I  terminated  the  interview  by 
resuming  it.  It  was  very  unreasonable  and 
irritating,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  ask  the 
Rajah  to  speak  to  it  the  next  morning.     I 


135 

had  an  engagement  that  evening,  or  I  would 
have  done  it  then.     How  I  wish  I  had  ! 

At  half-past  nine  I  went  to  an  *'  At  Home  " 
at  Professor  Drayton's.  As  a  rule,  "At 
Homes"  are  dull;  but  I  had  a  reason  for 
going  to  this  one.  The  Professor  had  a  very- 
pretty  daughter,  and  I  was  vain  enough  to 
think  that  my  presence  was  welcome  to  her. 
In  fact,  we  were  great  friends,  and  I  had  not 
been  at  the  house  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before 
I  had  forgotten  all  my  worries  with  my 
unruly  Astral  Body,  and  was  sitting  by 
Bessie  in  the  small  drawing-room,  enjoying 
myself  immensely.  Suddenly — mysteriously 
— I  felt  something  like  a  violent  push. 
Bessie  vanished  ;  the  drawing-room  van- 
ished ;  and  I  found  myself  in  the  High,  stand- 
ing in  dripping  rain,  without  a  hat  or  coat. 
I  stood  still  in  bewilderment.  What  had 
happened  ?  A  moment  later  the  Proctor  was 
upon  me.  I  gave  my  name  and  college  in  a 
mechanical  way,  and  he  passed  on,  leaving 
me  still  standing  in  the  rain.  What  had 
happened  ?  Then  it  flashed  across  my  mind. 
I  understood  its  threats.  It  had  projected 
me! 

I    woke   up   next   morning,  determined   to 
have  it  out  with  it.     I  found,  as  I   expected, 


136 

that  it  had  waited  till  I  was  asleep  ;  then  it 
slunk  in  and  united  without  my  knowing  it. 
I  went  and  paid  my  fine,  and  then,  not  waiting- 
to  breakfast,  I  proceeded  to  project  it.  It 
wouldn't  move  !  I  tried  again  and  again.  I 
had  no  more  power  over  it  than  a  child.  I 
knew  it  was  there  ;  but  I  could  not  move  it 
an  inch.  In  wrath,  I  jumped  up,  seized  my 
cap,  and  started  for  the  Rajah's  rooms.  The 
rogue  saw  what  I  was  up  to.  I  give  you  my 
word,  I  had  not  reached  the  door  when  it 
projected  me  most  viciously,  and  I  landed 
down  in  the  Parks. 

I  was  not  to  be  beaten.  I  came  back  to 
college  at  a  run,  and  made  straight  for  the 
Rajah's  rooms.  It  was  on  the  look-out  for 
me.  As  I  ran  by  my  oak,  which  I  had  to 
pass,  it  rushed  out  on  me,  united,  and  pro- 
jected me  back  again  to  Magdalene  Bridge. 
This  happened  three  times.  Then  I  sat  down 
in  the  Parks,  just  where  I  dropped,  and  ac- 
knowledged to  myself  that  I  was  in  a  pretty 
fix. 

I  had  a  fearful  week  of  it.  Of  course, 
wherever  I  was,  it  could  unite  at  once  by 
just  thinking  of  me;  and  directly  it  had 
united,  it  used,  I  believe  out  of  pure  malice, 
to  project  me  somewhere  where  I  did  not 
want  to  go.     It  was  lucky  for  me  that  it  was 


137 

new  to  the  business  ;  its  powers  were  as  yet 
very  undeveloped,  and,  consequently,  it  did 
not  carry  very  far.  If  it  could,  I  am  sure  it 
would  have  sent  me  to  the  Antipodes  ;  but  as 
it  was,  I  never  went  further  than  the  Univer- 
sity boat-house — a  pretty  tidy  step  on  a  bad 
morning.  Still,  it  was  improving;  and  I  felt 
that  I  must  act  at  once  if  I  did  not  want  to 
be  a  permanent  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the 
earth. 

My  only  chance  was  to  engross  its  atten- 
tion in  some  way,  so  that  it  would  forget  me 
for  a  little  while,  and  leave  me  free  to  speak 
to  the  Rajah.  I  pinned  all  my  hopes  on  the 
Rajah.  Well,  one  morning,  about  a  week 
after  it  first  projected  me,  I  went  for  a  walk 
in  Christchurch  Meadow.  We  were  united, 
<ind  it  had  actually  left  me  in  peace  ever  since 
breakfast.  I  hoped  its  better  feelings  were 
beginning  to  get  the  mastery  of  it,  and,  in 
order  to  see,  I  tried  to  project  it.  No,  it 
wouldn't  move!  The  creature  was  still  re- 
calcitrant. 

Suddenly  I  saw  Bessie  Drayton  just  in 
front  of  me.  In  delight  at  seeing  her,  I  for- 
got about  it,  and,  quickening  my  pace,  over- 
took her,  and  lifted  my  hat.  She  smiled  di- 
vinely, saying,  "  Why,  Mr.  Nares,  I  was  just 
going  to  write — "     At  that  moment,  when  I 


138 

was  listening  to  her  sweet  voice,  it  projected 
me!  Could  ill-nature  go  further?  But, 
luckily,  its  mind  was  not  really  concentrated 
on  what  it  was  doing.  I  believe  it  was  think- 
ing of  BessiCj  and  consequently  it  only  car- 
ried about  a  hundred  yards.  I  landed  be- 
hind one  of  the  big  elms,  where  I  lay  perdu 
till  it  had  gone  by.  It  and  Bessie  passed  me 
together,  and  it  was  grinning  from  ear  to  ear^ 
and  looked  as  pleased  as  Punch.  And  poor 
Bessie,  who  thought  she  was  talking  to  me, 
was  being  most  charming  to  it.  I  did  not 
waste  time  in  swearing.  I  ran  like  the  wind 
back  to  college,  hoping  that  Bessie's  society 
would  prevent  it  coming  after  me  till  I  had 
spoken  to  the  Rajah.  I  still  retained  one  pull 
over  it.  In  order  to  unite,  it  had  to  come 
where  I  was  ;  it  could  not  resume  me  from  a 
distance,  as  1  used  to  resume  it ;  so  if  it  united 
now  it  would  have  to  leave  Bessie. 

By  a  blessed  chance,  the  Rajah  was  at 
home,  and  in  trembling  haste  I  poured  my 
story  into  his  ear.  He  burst  out  laugh- 
ing. 

"  I  was  afraid  of  it !"  he  gasped,  holding  his 
sides.     "  How  splendid  !" 

I  restrained  my  annoyance,  and  after  a  time 
he  became  a  little  more  grave. 

"  Do  help  me  !"  I  urged.    **  It  may  unite  at 


139 

any  moment,  and  project  me  the  deuce  knows 
where." 

•'  Oh,  it'll  be  all  right  with  the  young  lady." 

"  Not  for  long.  She's  very  particular,  and 
won't  let  it  walk  far  with  her." 

"  Oh,  then  we  must  act.  You  don't  feel  it 
yet?" 

"  No  ;   but  do  be  quick  !" 

The  Rajah  sported  his  oak,  took  off  his 
coat,  lay  down  on  the  floor,  and  went  into 
strong  convulsions.  I  regretted  putting  him 
to  so  much  trouble,  but  my  need  was  urgent, 
and  I  knew  that  he  was  a  good-natured  man. 
Presently  he  cried  (and  I  was  just  getting 
alarmed  about  him): 

"  Are  you  there,  Nani-Tal  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  an  old,  white-haired  gen- 
tleman, dressed  in  a  sheet,  who  sat  in  the 
Rajah's  armchair. 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  the  Rajah,  getting 
up  and  puttmg  on  his  coat.  "  You  were  very 
difficult." 

"  We're  so  busy  just  now  ;"  said  Nani-Tal, 
apologetically.  "  I'm  demonstrating  three 
nights  a  week,  and  the  preparations  take  all 
my  time." 

"  Well,  you  can't  have  a  boom  for  nothing," 
said  the  Rajah,  smiling. 

"  I    don't   complain,"    said    Nani-Tal  ;    "  I 


I40 

only  mentioned  it  to  excuse  myself  for  keep- 
ing you  waiting-.  I  was  in  New  York  when 
3'ou  began  materializing.     It's  a  lively  city." 

"  You  must  tell  him  all  about  it,"  said 
the  Rajah  to  me  ;  "  he  won't  be  very  hard  on 
us." 

Nani-Tal  was,  however,  rather  severe,  He 
said  it  was  too  bad  of  the  Rajah.  How  were 
they  to  live,  if  that  sort  of  thing  went  on  ? 
Then  he  turned  to  me,  and  added,  "  Of 
course  you  couldn't  manage  it.  If  you'd 
gone  through  the  course,  you  would  have 
been  all  right.  But  there,  it's  everything  for 
nothing  nowadays!" 

"  My  friend  couldn't  go  to  Thibet." 

*'  He  might  have  paid  the  fees,  anyhow,'* 
grumbled  Nani-Tal,  "  and  taken  correspond- 
ence lessons." 

We  smoothed  him  down  with  the  promise 
of  a  handsome  donation,  and  at  last  he 
consented  to  help  us.  It  was  only  just  in 
time,  for  at  that  very  moment  I  felt  my 
Astral  Body  uniting.  A  second  later  it  made 
a  violent  effort  to  project  me ;  of  course,  it 
saw  Nani-Tal  and  it  knew  it  was  in  for  it. 
The   old  gentleman  was  too  quick  for  it. 

"  Come  out  of  that !"  he  cried  imperiously, 
and  the  wretch  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
room. 


141 

It  did  my  heart  good  to  hear  Nani-Tal  fall 
on  the  creature.  After  giving  it  no  end  of  a 
lecture,  he  concluded,  *'  And  now,  young 
man,  you'll  just  go  back  to  your  jackal  for  a 
thousand  years,  and  learn  better  manners." 

The  wretch  protested ;  it  asked  for  an 
elephant  or  even  a  tiger.  Nani-Tal  was 
obdurate. 

"  A  jackal  will  just  suit  you,"  he  said.  "  Be 
off!"  The  creature  vanished.  Simultane- 
ously Nani-Tal  began  to  disintegrate. 

"Wait  a  bit !"  cried  the  Rajah. 

"  I  can't.  I'm  summoned  to  St.  James's 
Hall.  There's  a  large  audience,  and  the 
Professor  has  been  in  convulsions  seven 
minutes." 

I  tried  to  grasp  his  hand  in  thanks. 

"  If  you  want  another,"  he  said,  "  you  must 
go  through  the  course — the  full  course. 
There's  no  other  way.  Let  this  be  a  lesson 
to  you."  And  with  this  parting  remark  he 
disintegrated. 

The  Rajah  lit  a  cigar,  and  I,  lighter  at 
heart  than  I  had  been  for  many  days,  followed 
his  example. 

"  It  was  wrong  of  me,"  said  the  Rajah  ;  "  I 
won't  do  it  again." 

"  It's  a  pity  it  turned  out  so  badly,"  I 
remarked ;  "  it  was  quite  a  comfort  at  first.'* 


142 

**  They're  all  like  that,  unless  you  keep  a 
tight  hand  on  them.  Shall  you  take  the 
course  ?" 

*'  Not  I.     I've  had  enough  of  it." 

"Perhaps  you're  right.  Excuse  me;  I 
have  to  go  to  the  Deccan  on  business." 

He  fell  back  on  the  sofa,  apparently  in  a 
trance,  and  I  went  off  to  the  Dean's  lecture. 
It  makes  all  the  difference  whether  you  know 
how  to  do  a  thing  or  not. 


THE  NEBRASKA   LOADSTONE. 

If  there  was  one  man  in  college  whom  the 
Rajah  thoroughly  and  heartily  detested,  it 
was  the  Captain  of  the  Boat  Club.  He  had 
many  faults  ;  he  was  very  tall  and  powerful, 
and  delighted  in  contrasting  the  English 
physique  with  that  of  inferior  races;  by 
which  he  meant,  among  others,  the  Rajah's 
race.  His  manner  was  abrupt  and  over- 
bearing, his  laugh  loud  and  unmusical.  In 
fact,  he  grated  horribly  on  the  Rajah ;  and  it 
was  merely  the  final  straw  when,  in  the 
exhilaration  of  a  bump  supper — full,  as  the 
Rajah  remarked  in  disgust,  of  cow  and  strong 
drink — he  called  that  prince,  in  playful  chaff, 
a  "  nigger."  The  Rajah  swore  melodiously 
in  Hindustani,  and  I  saw  that  he  meant  to  be 
revenged. 

In  those  days  the  entertainment  of  the 
Nebraska  Loadstone  created  2i  furore.  Every- 
body went  to  see  her,  and  everybody  came 

[143] 


144 


away  convinced  that  she  possessed  marvelous 
powers.  Her  peculiar  gift — but  everybody 
remembers  the  details  of  the  performance, 
and  how  the  tricks  were  finally,  one  by  one, 
exposed,  so  that  her  adherents  and  believers 
were  driven  from  one  position  to  another, 
until  at  last  they  had  to  fall  back  on  one  single 
performance  out  of  all  those  that  the  Load- 
stone gave,  and  maintain  that  on  that  occasion 
at  least  something  unexplained  and  inexplic- 
able did  really  happen.  It  is  with  the  events 
of  that  particular  evening  that  I  am  con- 
cerned. I  think  I  .can  throw  some  light  on 
them. 

At  first,  however,  there  were  many 
believers  and  few  sceptics.  The  Dean  care- 
fully pointed  out  that  Plato  nowhere  denied 
the  existence  of  odic  force ;  and  the  Bursar, 
who  was  generally  supposed  to  be  little 
better  than  an  atheist,  declared  that  Spencer 
in  one  passage  impliedly  asserted  it;  even 
the  Warden,  in  his  sermon,  told  us  that  it 
was  better,  according  to  Bacon,  to  believe 
two  errors  than  refuse  one  truth — which  was, 
to  say  the  least  of  it,  sitting  on  the  fence. 
But  none  of  these  authorities  shook  the  robust 
scepticism  oi  the  Captain  of  the  Boat  Club. 
He  knew  a  conjurer,  and  the  conjurer  had 


145 

told  him  how  it  was  done,  and  he  was  going- 
to  expose  the  Loadstone. 

"  But  why  haven't  you  ?"  I  urged.  "  She's 
been  here  a  week." 

"  He  will  not  be  too  hard  on  her  at  first," 
said  the  Rajah,  with  a  little  sneer. 

"  I'll  bust  her  up  this  very  night,"  said 
Waterer.  "  I  would  have  done  it  before,  only 
I  was  gated." 

The  excuse  was  good,  and  Waterer  de- 
parted, full  of  boastings  and  self-confidence, 
to  gather  together  a  large  number  of  the 
noisy  men,  and  make  a  pleasant  party  to 
"  guy  "  the  unhappy  Loadstone.  I  stayed  to 
smoke  a  pipe  with  the  Rajah. 

"Of  course  she's  a  fraud,"  said  he  ;  "and 
I  believe  that  animal  really  has  got  hold  of 
the  right  explanation." 

"  I  shall  go  and  see  it,"  I  announced. 

After  a  moment's  silent  smoking,  the  Rajah 
looked  up  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "So 
shall  I — if  niggers  are  admitted." 

After  Hall,  he  and  I  set  out  together  for 
the  Town  Hall.  We  found  the  first  two 
rows  of  stalls  occupied  by  Waterer  and  his 
friends.  They  were  all  in  evening  dress,  and 
had  obviously  dined — not  in  Hall.  The 
Rajah  and  I  seated  ourselves  just  behind 
them.     The  room  was  full,  and  the  feats  were 


146 

being  most  successful;  each  was  followed  by- 
general  applause,  broken  only  by  some  gibes 
from  our  friends  in  front.  These  latter  grew 
so  pronounced  that  the  Loadstone's  manager 
at  last  came  forward  and  pointedly  invited 
one  of  the  scoffers  to  submit  himself  to 
experiment. 

Now  was  Waterer's  chance.  He  rose  in 
the  majesty  of  his  bulk,  walked  on  to  the 
platform,  and  said  in  a  loud  voice,  as  he 
settled  himself  on  a  chair,  "  If  the  lady  can 
move  me  one  foot  from  this  chair,  I'll  give 
her  a  pony  !" 

The  Loadstone  advanced  and  began  to  paw 
him  about  in  her  usual  fashion.  Waterer, 
who  was  sober  enough  to  have  lost  nothing 
but  his  shyness,  was  apparently  too  many  for 
her.  He  was  immovable  ;  and  cries  of, 
**  Now  then  !  when  are  you  going  to  begin  ?'* 
and  so  on,  became  audible.  Two  or  three 
minutes  passed,  and  the  Loadstone  turned 
with  a  gesture  of  despair  toward  her  man- 
ager. 

*'  I  can't — "  she  began. 

I  jumped  to  my  feet,  crying,  "  Wait  a 
minute!     Look!" 

For  even  as  she  spoke,  there  was  what  is 
scientifically  called  a  solution  of  continuity 
between  Waterer  and  his  chair.     Still  in  a 


147  -• 

sitting-  posture,  but  sitting  on  nothing-,  he  was 
at  least  two  inches  from  the  wickerwork  of 
the  chair.  I  glanced  from  him  to  the  Rajah. 
That  extraordinary  man  was  in  deep,  placid, 
profound  slumber.  I  jogged  his  elbow  and 
pinched  his  arm  ;  he  showed  no  consciousness 
whatever.  I  looked  at  the  Loadstone.  She 
was  standing  motionless  on  the  stage,  about 
a  yard  from  Waterer,  with  one  hand  out- 
stretched toward  him,  and  her  eyes  fixed  on 
his  ascending  figure  ;  for  Waterer  was  grad- 
ually, slowly,  steadily  mounting  in  his  strange 
journey.  He  was  now  a  foot  from  his  chair, 
still  in  a  sitting  position — and  up,  up,  up  he 
was  going.  The  wretch  was  white  as  a 
sheet,  and  gasping  with  fright  and  bewilder- 
ment. Thunders  of  applause  burst  from  the 
audience.  It  was  again  and  again  renewed, 
but  the  Loadstone  did  not,  as  her  custom 
was,  bow  and  smile  in  response.  She  still 
stood  motionless,  and  Waterer  still  ascended. 

At  last,  at  a  height  of  fully  twenty  feet 
from  the  stage,  he  stopped.  Simultaneously 
the  Loadstone  gave  a  loud  shriek  as  she  fell 
back  into  the  arms  of  the  manager — and  the 
Rajah  awoke. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  politely;  "  I 
was  drowsy.     Anything  going  on?" 


148 

*  No  ;  he's  stopped  now,"  I  answered,  my 
eyes  eagerly  fixed  on  Waterer. 

The  Rajah  rose  from  his  seat  with  a  yawn, 
''There'll  be  nothing  more  to-night,"  he  said. 
**  Let's  go  home." 

"  Go  home,  man ! — with  that  before  our 
eyes  !" 

The  Rajah  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "She 
won't  do  anything  more,"  he  repeated. 
**  Look  at  her;  she's  quite  done  up." 

And,  indeed,  the  Loadstone  looked  half- 
dead  as  she  gazed  fearfully  up  at  Waterer. 
Her  demeanor  was  not  that  of  a  triumphant 
performer. 

•'  Do  sit  down,"  I  urged  ;  "  we  must  see  the 
end  of  it." 

With  a  weary  sigh,  the  Rajah  sat  down, 
saying,  "  I'm  not  sure  you  will,  you  know." 

While  we  talked,  the  audience  grew  im- 
patient. However  wonderful  a  feat  may  be, 
the  public  likes  to  have  things  kept  moving. 
They  thought  Waterer  had  been  in  the  air 
long  enough,  and  there  were  cries  of  "  That'll 
do  !     Let  him  down  !"     "  Give  us  another." 

The  manager  held  a  hasty  conference  with 
the  Loadstone  ;  he  seemed  to  urge  her  ;  but 
she  shook  her  head  again  and  again,  and 
would  do  nothing  but  lie  back  in  a  chair,  and 
pass    her    hand   to   and   fro  over  her  head. 


149 

The  Rajah  looked  at  her  with  a  slight  smile. 
The  clamor  increased.  I  think  a  sort  of 
panic — an  angry  panic — seized  the  audience. 

"  Bring  him  down  !  Bring  him  down  !'* 
they  cried,  pointing  to  the  pallid  Waterer, 
who  sat  as  rigid  as  a  trussed  fowl. 

After  another  despairing  appeal  to  the 
Loadstone,  the  manager  came  forward  and 
made  a  lame  speech.  The  Loadstone  was 
exhausted  with  her  unparalleled  exertions. 
She  must  rest ;  presently  she  would  bring 
him  down.  Then  Waterer's  friends  arose 
and  ascended  the  platform.  They  walked 
about,  they  stood  on  one  another's  shoulders, 
they  made  it  clear  that  no  cords  held  Waterer. 
A  pair  of  steps  was  called  for  and  brought. 
Placed  on  a  sturdy  table,  they  just  enabled  a 
man  to  reach  Waterer's  feet.  One  mounted 
amidst  intense  excitement.  Turning  to  the 
Rajah,  I  exclaimed,  "  Look!" 

He  was  asleep  again  ;  and  the  Loadstone 
stood  stiffly  upright,  beckoning  toward 
Waterer.  Slowly  and  gradually  he  de- 
scended, leaving  the  man  on  the  ladder 
grasping  at  empty  air,  till  he  sat  again  on  his 
seat.  The  applause  burst  out,  and  the  Load- 
stone sank  back  in  a  faint  on  the  floor.  The 
Rajah  awoke,  and  the  manager  dropped  the 


150 

curtain,  hiding  the  Loadstone,  Waterer,  and 
his  friends  from  our  view. 

"Give  me  your  arm,"  said  the  Rajah  ;  "  I 
am  tired."  I  escorted  him  to  a  cab,  and  we 
drove  home. 

The  Loadstone  gave  no  performance  the 
next  evening ;  she  was  too  fatigued  ;  and 
Waterer  was  absent  from  the  boat  and  from 
the  sight  of  men  two  days.  When  he  reap- 
peared he  made  no  reference  to  his  friend  the 
conjurer.  He  slunk  about  the  Quad,  look- 
ing very  pale  and  upset.  I  met  him  once, 
when  I  was  with  the  Rajah,  on  our  way  to 
lecture.  The  Rajah  smiled  urbanely  at 
Waterer,  and  said  to  me,  when  he  had 
passed : 

"  It's  such  a  rude  thing  to  call  a  gentleman 
a  nigger,  isn't  it  ?" 

Waterer  has  not  done  it  again.  And  the 
Loadstone  never  did  that  trick  again.  She 
took  the  pony,  though.  The  manager  called 
on  Waterer,  and  asked  for  a  check.  I  think 
that  incident  pleased  the  Rajah  most  of  all. 

"  It  is  a  ready  utilization  of  the  unexpected," 
he  remarked,  "  which  does  our  friend  much 
credit." 


A  SUCCESSFUL  REHEARSAL. 

Mr.  Aloysius  Tappenham,  of  Stamford 
Road,  was  a  dealer  in  frauds.  It  must  not 
be  understood  from  this  statement  that  he 
was  either  a  company-promoter  or  the  man- 
ager of  a  philanthropic  undertaking.  On  the 
contrary,  he  was  as  honest  a  man  of  business 
as  you  would  find  in  London,  and  he  earned 
his  living  by  discovering  and  introducing 
new  attractions  in  the  shape  of  "  Wonders," 
**  Phenomenons,"  and  so  forth.  The  music 
halls  were  Mr.  Tappenham's  best  customers, 
and  when  he  successfully  launched  a  new  im- 
postor, he  reaped  a  handsome  return  in  the 
way  of  commissions  on  the  salary  of  the 
impostor  and  the  profits  of  the  entrepreneur. 
All  \\\s proteges  were  a  success — a  fact  chiefly 
to  be  attributed  to  his  unvarying  habit  of 
insisting  that  he  himself  should  be  shown 
"  how  it  was  done."  He  promised  and  ob- 
served  absolute  secrecy;   but,  as  he  always 


152 

said,  he  could  not  properly  judge  of  the  merit 
of  any  particular  fraud,  unless  he  were  al- 
lowed a  private  view  of  the  machinery  by 
which  it  was  worked.  Some  few  years  ago, 
in  the  very  prime  of  life,  and  the  full  tide 
of  a  profitable  trade,  Mr  Tappenham  sud- 
denly retired  from  business.  This  was  the 
reason. 

One  day  Mr.  Tappenham  discovered  a 
treasure  in  the  shape  of  a  very  attractive 
young  lady  whose  name  was  Hopkins,  but 
who  proposed  to  call  herself  Mile.  Claire. 
Claire  was  hardly  suitable  to  the  music-halls; 
Mr.  Tappenham  thought  that  she  was  above 
that,  and  proposed  to  "  run  "  her  himself  in 
Bond  Street,  on  half  profit  terms.  Her 
speciality  was  the  production  of  any  spirit 
you  liked  to  order.  She  received  in  a  dimly 
lighted  room  ;  you  told  her  who  you  were, 
and  whose  spirit  you  wished  to  interview, 
and  forthwith,  without  any  nonsense  of  hand- 
holding  or  table-turning,  she  caused  to  appear 
a  shadowy  yet  clearly  perceptible  figure 
which  was  exactly  like  the  person  you  named, 
spoke  with  that  person's  voice,  and  exhibited 
full — or  reasonably  full — knowledge  of  every, 
thing  which  that  person,  and  that  person  only, 
might  be  expected  to  know. 

Mr.  Tappenham  was  much  struck  with  the 


153 

dexterity  of  this  performance.  Of  course, 
when  explained,  it  resolved  itself  into  some 
clever  optical  illusion,  a  little  ventriloquism, 
and  a  good  deal  of  tact  in  returning  to  the 
inquirer  in  another  form  information  pumped 
out  of  him  beforehand.  The  materials  were 
simple,  the  result  was  highly  artistic  ;  and 
Mr.  Tappenham  determined  to  furnish  the 
only  thing  needful  to  set  London  aflame  with 
the  new  marvel — namely,  capital.  However, 
before  taking  the  last  irreparable  step,  he 
decided  on  a  final  trial.  He  prepared  the 
inise-en-sccne  with  due  completeness,  and  in- 
vited Mile.  Claire  to  experiment  on  him- 
self. 

"  Consider  me  one  of  the  public,"  he  said, 
"and  give  me  a  hair-raiser." 

Mile.  Claire  protested  that  he  was  too  much 
behind  the  scenes ;  but,  on  being  pressed,  she 
consented  to  try,  and  asked  Mr.  Tappenham 
to  name  his  spirit. 

He  thought  for  a  moment  and  then  said  : 

"When  I  was  a  young  man,  I  knew  a  girl 
called  Nellie  Davies — a  pretty  girl,  my  dear. 
I  dare  say  I  didn't  treat  her  over  well ;  but 
that's  neither  here  nor  there.  Let's  have 
her." 

Clever  little  Mile.  Claire  asked  a  question 
or  two — and   Mr.   Tappenham   admired  the 


154 

neat  and  apparently  undesigned  nature  of  her 
questions — and  then  set  to  work,  after  drawing 
the  curtains  a  shade  closer,  and  turning  the 
light  a  trifle  lower. 

Mr.  Tappenham  sat  comfortably  in  an  arm- 
chair, his  hands  crossed  over  his  white  waist- 
coat, and  a  smile  of  satisfaction  on  his  face. 
Presently  the  shadowy  shape  began  to  form 
itself  a  yard  or  two  from  Mr.  Tappenham. 

"  Capital,  capital  ?"  he  chuckled.  '^  That'll 
fetch  'em." 

The  shape  grew  more  definite. 
"  Will  that  do  ?"  asked  Mile.  Claire,  trium- 
phantly.    "  Is  it  like  ?" 

"  Now,  by  Jove,  it  is  rather !  Make  it 
speak." 

Mile.  Claire  laughed,  and,  projecting  her 
voice  to  the  shape,  began  in  low,  sweet,  sad 
tones:  "You  summoned  me.  What  do  you 
desire  of  your  dead  friend  ?" 

She  stopped,  laughing  again,  and  said, 
"  It's  no  use,  when  you're  up  to  it  before- 
hand." 

Mr.  Tappenham  did  not  answer  her.  He 
sat  looking  at  the  shape,  and  seemed  to  be 
listening  intently. 

"Shall!  go  on?"  she  inquired.  Mr.  Tap- 
penham took  no  notice. 

"What's  the   matter  with   him?"   thought 


155 


Mile.  Claire.  "  I  shan't  go  on  if  he's  not 
listening." 

Assuming  her  pretended  voice  again,  she 
said,  "  I  will  try  to  forgive.  Farewell,  fare- 
well,"  and,  with  a  merry,  boisterous  laugh, 
she  displaced  the  arrangement  which  pro- 
duced the  illusion,  and  said  to  Mr.  Tappen- 
ham : 

"  Now,  are  you  satisfied  !"  Then  she  added, 
in  a  tone  of  surprise:  "Whatever  is  the 
matter?"  For,  as  she  looked,  the  expression 
of  his  face  changed  from  attention  to  surprise, 
from  surprise  to  uneasiness.  He  turned  to 
her  and  said,  with  a  forced  smile:  "It's  too 
clever — a  sight  too  clever,  That'll  do;  stop 
it,  please." 

"Stop  it?" 

"  Yes.  I've  had  enough.  It's — it's  damned 
absurd,  but  it's  getting  on  my  nerves.  Stop 
it,  I  say — stop  it !"  His  voice  rose  at  the  end 
almost  into  a  cry. 

"  Why,  I  have  stopped  it  this  three  min- 
utes !*'  she  answered  in  surprise. 

His  e3'es  had  wandered  from  her  to  where 
the  shape  had  been  ;  but  at  her  last  words  he 
turned  to  her  again  with  a  start.  "What? 
No,  no.  No  nonsense !  Come,  now,  be  a 
good  girl  and  stop  it.     I've  had  enough." 


1 


156 

"Are  you  drunk?"  asked  Mile.  Oaire,  im- 
patiently.    "  It's  all  over," 

"  I  won't  be  made  a  fool  of,"  said  he  angrily. 
**  Stop  it,  or  not  a  farthing  do  you  get 
from  me." 

"  Heaven  bless  the  man,  he's  mad  !"  ex- 
claimed the  lady,  who  began  to  be  a  little 
uncomfortable  herself. 

It  is  an  eerie  thing  to  see  a  man  looking 
hard  at — nothing,  and  listening  intently  to — 
nothing. 

Suddenly  he  jumped  up  and  ran  toward 
Mile.  Claire.  He  seized  her  by  the  arm,  and 
cried,  "  Stop,  you  little  devil,  stop  !  Do  you 
want  to  madden  me?  I  never  did  it,  I  never 
did.  At  least,  I  never  meant  it — so  help' me 
God,  I  never  meant  it." 

"  Mr.  Tappenham,  you're  dreaming. 
There's  nothing  there.  I'm  saying  noth- 
ing." 

"  She's  coming  !  She's  coming  !"  he  cried. 
"  Take  her  away  !  take  her  away  !" 

Mile.  Claire  looked  at  his  face.  Then  she 
too  gave  a  shriek  of  fright,  and,  hiding  her 
face  in  her  hands,  sank  on  the  floor  sobbing. 
She  saw  nothing.  But  what  was  that  face 
looking  at  ? 

As  for  Mr.  Tappenham,  he  fled  into  the 
corner  of  the  room.     And  when  Mile.  Claire 


"  Presently  the  shadowy  shape  began  to  form  itself 
a  yard  or  two  from  Mr.  Tappcnhain." 


157 

recovered  herself  enough  to  draw  back  the 
curtains,  and  let  in  the  blessed  sun,  he  lay  on 
the  floor  like  a  man  dead. 

Mile.  Claire  was  a  good  girl.  She  had  a 
mother  and  two  little  brothers  to  keep  ;  so 
she  stuck  to  the  business  ;  but  she  never  liked 
it  very  much  after  that  day.  Mr.  Tappen- 
ham  could  afford  to  retire,  and  he  did  retire. 
He  lives  very  quietly,  and  gives  large  sums 
in  charity.  Mile.  Claire  knows  all  the  tricks 
that  ever  were  invented  ;  she  is  a  thorough- 
going little  sceptic,  and  believes  in  nothing 
that  she  does  not  see,  and  in  very  little  of 
what  she  does.  Therefore  she  merely  exem- 
plifies feminine  illogicality  when  she  thinks 
to  herself,  as  she  cannot  help  thinking  now 
and  then : 

"  I  wonder  what  he  did  to  Nellie  Davies  !" 

She  told  me  about  it,  and  I  believed  her 
when  she  said  that  she  was  not  playing  a 
trick  on  Mr.  Tappenham.  But  perhaps  she 
was  deceiving  me  also ;  if  so,  that  is  an  ex- 
planation. 

I  repeated  the  story  to  a  scientific  man. 
He  said  that  it  furnished  an  interesting  in- 
stance of  the  permanence  of  an  optical  im- 
pression after  the  removal  of  the  external 
excitant.     That  is  another  explanation. 

Or  it  may  have  been  the  working  of  con- 


158 

science ;  that  is  an  explanation  in  a  way, 
though  an  improbable  one,  because,  in  spite 
of  many  opportunities,  Mr.  Tappenham's 
conscience  had  never  given  him  any  incon- 
venience before.     It  has  since. 


THE  END. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below. 


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